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POEMS.
He floated, oft his heart foreboding death,But when the bright-haired Eos had fulfilledThe third day's course, and all the winds were laid,And calm was on the watery waste, he sawThat land was near, as, lifted on the crestOf a huge swell, he looked with sharpened sight;And as a father's life preserved makes gladHis children's heart, when long-time he has lainSick, wrung with pain, and wasting by the powerOf some malignant genius, till, at length,The gracious gods bestow a welcome cure;So welcome to Ulysses was the sightOf woods and fields. By swimming on he thoughtTo climb and tread the shore, but when he drewSo near that one who shouted could be heardFrom land, the sound of ocean on the rocks
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