“Soon as the morn restored the day, we paid
Sepulchral honours to Elpenor’s shade. 
Now by the axe the rushing forest bends,
And the huge pile along the shore ascends. 
Around we stand, a melancholy train,
And a loud groan re-echoes from the main. 
Fierce o’er the pyre, by fanning breezes spread,
The hungry flames devour the silent dead. 
A rising tomb, the silent dead to grace,
Fast by the roarings of the main we place;
The rising tomb a lofty column bore,
And high above it rose the tapering oar.

“Meantime the goddess our return survey’d
From the pale ghosts and hell’s tremendous shade. 
Swift she descends:  a train of nymphs divine
Bear the rich viands and the generous wine: 
In act to speak the power of magic stands,
And graceful thus accosts the listening bands;

“’O sons of woe? decreed by adverse fates
Alive to pass through hell’s eternal gates! 
All, soon or late, are doom’d that path to tread;
More wretched you! twice number’d with the dead! 
This day adjourn your cares, exalt your souls,
Indulge the taste, and drain the sparkling bowls;
And when the morn unveils her saffron ray,
Spread your broad sails, and plough the liquid way: 
Lo, I this night, your faithful guide, explain
Your woes by land, your dangers on the main.’

“The goddess spoke.  In feasts we waste the day,
Till Phoebus downward plunged his burning ray;
Then sable night ascends, and balmy rest
Seals every eye, and calms the troubled breast. 
Then curious she commands me to relate
The dreadful scenes of Pluto’s dreary state. 
She sat in silence while the tale I tell,
The wondrous visions and the laws of hell.

“Then thus:  ’The lot of man the gods dispose;
These ills are past:  now hear thy future woes
O prince attend; some favouring power be kind,
And print the important story on thy mind!

“’Next, where the Sirens dwells, you plough the seas;
Their song is death, and makes destruction please. 
Unblest the man, whom music wins to stay
Nigh the cursed shore and listen to the lay. 
No more that wretch shall view the joys of life
His blooming offspring, or his beauteous wife! 
In verdant meads they sport; and wide around
Lie human bones that whiten all the ground: 
The ground polluted floats with human gore,
And human carnage taints the dreadful shore
Fly swift the dangerous coast:  let every ear
Be stopp’d against the song! ’tis death to hear! 
Firm to the mast with chains thyself be bound,
Nor trust thy virtue to the enchanting sound. 
If, mad with transport, freedom thou demand,
Be every fetter strain’d, and added band to band.

“’These seas o’erpass’d, be wise! but I refrain
To mark distinct thy voyage o’er the main: 
New horrors rise! let prudence be thy guide,
And guard thy various passage through the tide.