VII. The Introduction of Penelope.
I
Soon as Athené spoke the word,
She took the likeness of a bird.
And, skyward soaring, fled.
The counsels of the heavenly guest
Within Telemachus's breast
New strength and spirit bred.
II
His absent father to his thought
Was by his wakened memory brought
More freshly than of old:
But when Athené's flight he saw,
A feeling deep of reverend awe
His inmost heart controlled.
III
He knew the stranger was a god;
And hastening to his own abode,
He joined the suitor train.
A far-famed minstrel in the hall
Sang to the peers, who listened all
In silence to his strain.
IV
As subject of his lay he chose
The mournful story of the woes
Borne by the Achaian host,
When, under Pallas' vengeful wrath,
Homeward returning was their path
Bent from the Trojan coast.
V
The song Icarius' daughter heard,
And all thine inmost soul was stirred,
Penelope the chaste!
Straight did she from her bower repair
And passing down the lofty stair,
The festal hall she graced.
VI
Alone she went not—in her train
She took with her handmaidens twain;
And when the peerless queen
Came where the suitors sate, aloof
Close by a post that propped the roof,
She stood with face unseen.
VII
A veil concealed her cheeks from view,
And by each side a handmaid true
In seemly order stood;
With tears fast bursting from her eyne,
Addressing thus the bard divine,
She her discourse pursued:
VIII
“Phemius! for men's delight thy tongue
Can many another flowing song
In soothing measure frame;
Can tell of many a deed, which done
By God or man in days bygone,
Bards have consigned to fame.
IX
“Take one of those, and all around,
Silent, will hear the dulcet sound,
Drinking the blood-red wine;
But cease that melancholy lay
That wears my very heart away—
A heavy wo is mine!
X
“How can I check the tide of grief,
Remembering still that far-famed chief,
Whose fame all Hellas fills?”
Answered her son, “Oh! mother mine!
Why dost thou blame the bard divine,
For singing as he wills?
XI
“Blame not the poet—blame to Heaven,
Which to poor struggling men has given
What weight of wo it chose.
How can we charge the bard with wrong,
If the sad burden of his song
Turns on the Danaan woes?
XII
“Men, ever with delighted ear,
The newest song desire to hear.
Then firmly to the strain
Listen, which tells of perils done:
My sire is not the only one
Who of the chiefs to Ilion gone
Has not returned again.
XIII
“For many, to that fatal shore
Who sailed away, came back no more:
Thy business is at home,
Thy servant-maidens to command,
And ply, with an industrious hand,
The distaff, and the loom.
XIV
“To men, the guiding power must be,
At all times, in these halls to me;
For here my will is law.”
The queen went homeward, as he bade,
And felt the words her son had said
Inspired her soul with awe.
XV
Soon did she, with her handmaids twain,
Her lofty seated chamber gain.
And there, with many a tear,
Until Athené came to steep
Her weary lids in balmy sleep,
Did chaste Penelope be-weep
Her absent husband dear.
While, seated still at festival,
The suitors, in the dusky hall,
Revelled with noisy cheer.
