| 499 | 500 | 501 | 502 | 503 |
| 1 | 153 | 306 | 459 | 612 |
|
For me the rival archers shall contend.
As on the listed field he used to place
Six beams, opposed to six in equal space;
Elanced afar by his unerring art,
Sure through six circlets flew the whizzing dart.
So, when the sun restores the purple day,
Their strength and skill the suitors shall assay;
To him the spousal honour is decreed,
Who through the rings directs the feather'd reed.
Torn from these walls (where long the kinder powers
With joy and pomp have wing'd my youthful hours!)
On this poor breast no dawn of bliss shall beam;
The pleasure past supplies a copious theme
For many a dreary thought, and many a doleful dream!"
"
Propose the sportive lot (the chief replies),
Nor dread to name yourself the bowyer's prize;
Ulysses will surprise the unfinish'd game,
Avow'd, and falsify the suitors' claim."
To whom with grace serene the queen rejoin'd:
"In all thy speech what pleasing force I find!
O'er my suspended woe thy words prevail;
I part reluctant from the pleasing tale,
But Heaven, that knows what all terrestrials need,
Repose to night, and toil to day decreed;
501
Page
Quick Jump
|