Classic Poem

Then Macareus — There reign'd a Prince of Fame
O'er Tuscan Seas, and Æolus his Name.
A Largess to Ulysses he consign'd,
And in a Steer's tough Hide inclos'd a Wind.
Nine Days before the swelling Gale we ran;
The tenth, to make the meeting Land, began:
When now, the merry Mariners, to find
Imagin'd Wealth within, the Bag unbind.
Forthwith out-rush'd a Gust, which backwards bore
Our Gallies to the Lastrigonian Shore,
Whose Crown, Antiphates the Tyrant wore.
Some few commission'd were with Speed to treat;
We to his Court repair, his Guards we meet.
Two, friendly Flight preserv'd; the Third was doom'd
To be by those curs'd Cannibals consum'd
Inhumanly our hapless Friends they treat;
Our Men they murder, and destroy our Fleet.
In time the wise Ulysses bore away,
And drop'd his Anchor in yon faithless Bay.
The Thoughts of Perils past we still retain,
And fear to land, till Lots appoint the Men
Polites true, Elpenor giv'n to Wine,
Eurylochus , my self, the Lots assign.
Design'd for Dangers, and resolv'd to Dare,
To Circe 's fatal Palace we repair.