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As for myself -- why, of my wails the rushing
Fountains are dried up: not in them a drop more!
And in my late-to-bed eyes I have damage,
Bewailing what concerned thee, those torch-holdings
For ever unattended to. In dreams -- why,
Beneath the light wing-beats o' the gnat, I woke up
As he went buzzing -- sorrows that concerned thee
Seeing, that filled more than their fellow-sleep-time.
Now, all this having suffered, from soul grief-free
I would style this man here the dog o' the stables,
The saviour forestay of the ship, the high roof's
Ground-prop, son sole-begotten to his father,
-- Ay, land appearing to the sailors past hope,
Loveliest day to see after a tempest,
To the wayfaring-one athirst a well-spring,
-- The joy, in short, of 'scaping all that 's -- fatal!
I judge him worth addresses such as these are
-- Envy stand off! -- for many those old evils
We underwent. And now, to me -- dear headship! --
Dismount thou from this car, not earthward setting
The foot of thine, O king, that's Ilion's spoiler!
Slave-maids, why tarry? -- whose the task allotted
To strew the soil o' the road with carpet-spreadings.
Immediately be purple-strewn the pathway,
So that to home unhoped may lead him -- Justice!
As for the rest, care shall -- by no sleep conquered --
Dispose things -- justly (gods to aid!) appointed.
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