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FIFTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ODYSSEY.
165
The hour of my return. Even though some godSmite me on the black ocean, I shall bearThe stroke, for in my bosom dwells a mindPatient of suffering; much have I endured,And much survived, in tempests on the deep,And in the battle; let this happen too." He spoke; the sun went down; the night came on,And now the twain withdrew to a recessDeep in the vaulted cave, where, side by side,They took their rest. But when the child of dawn,Aurora, rosy-fingered, looked abroad,Ulysses put his vest and mantle on;The nymph too, in a robe of silver white,Ample, and delicate, and beautiful,Arrayed herself, and round about her loinsWound a fair golden girdle, drew a veilOver her head, and planned to send awayMagnanimous Ulysses. She bestowed
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