A hundred years they wander on the shore;At length, their penance done, are wafted o'er."The Trojan chief his forward pace repress'd, Revolving anxious thoughts within his breast, He saw his friends, who, whelm'd beneath the waves, Their fun'ral honors claim'd, and ask'd their quiet graves.
The lost Leucaspis in the crowd he knew, And the brave leader of the Lycian crew, Whom, on the Tyrrhene seas, the tempests met;The sailors master'd, and the ship o'erset.
Amidst the spirits, Palinurus press'd, Yet fresh from life, a new-admitted guest, Who, while he steering view'd the stars, and bore His course from Afric to the Latian shore, Fell headlong down.The Trojan fix'd his view, And scarcely thro' the gloom the sullen shadow knew.
Then thus the prince: "What envious pow'r, O friend, Brought your lov'd life to this disastrous end?
For Phoebus, ever true in all he said, Has in your fate alone my faith betray'd.
The god foretold you should not die, before You reach'd, secure from seas, th' Italian shore.
Is this th' unerring pow'r?" The ghost replied;"Nor Phoebus flatter'd, nor his answers lied;Nor envious gods have sent me to the deep:
But, while the stars and course of heav'n I keep, My wearied eyes were seiz'd with fatal sleep.
I fell; and, with my weight, the helm constrain'd Was drawn along, which yet my gripe retain'd.
Now by the winds and raging waves I swear, Your safety, more than mine, was then my care;Lest, of the guide bereft, the rudder lost, Your ship should run against the rocky coast.
Three blust'ring nights, borne by the southern blast, I floated, and discover'd land at last:
High on a mounting wave my head I bore, Forcing my strength, and gath'ring to the shore.
Panting, but past the danger, now I seiz'd The craggy cliffs, and my tir'd members eas'd.
While, cumber'd with my dropping clothes, I lay, The cruel nation, covetous of prey, Stain'd with my blood th' unhospitable coast;And now, by winds and waves, my lifeless limbs are toss'd: