Untouch'd they stood, till, his long labours o'er,

The great Ulysses reach'd his native shore.

A double strength of bars secured the gates;

Fast by the door the wise Euryclea waits;

Euryclea, who great Ops! thy lineage shared,

And watch'd all night, all day, a faithful guard.

To whom the prince: "O thou whose guardian care

Nursed the most wretched king that breathes the air;

Untouch'd and sacred may these vessels stand,

Till great Ulysses views his native land.

But by thy care twelve urns of wine be fill'd;

Next these in worth, and firm these urns be seal'd;

And twice ten measures of the choicest flour

Prepared, are yet descends the evening hour.

For when the favouring shades of night arise,

And peaceful slumbers close my mother's eyes,

Me from our coast shall spreading sails convey,

To seek Ulysses through the watery way."

While yet he spoke, she fill'd the walls with cries,

And tears ran trickling from her aged eyes.

O whither, whither flies my son (she cried)

To realms; that rocks and roaring seas divide?

In foreign lands thy father's days decay'd.

And foreign lands contain the mighty dead.

The Odyssey of Homer