And mingled horrors echo to the skies;
The men like fish, they struck upon the flood,
And cramm’d their filthy throats with human food. 
Whilst thus their fury rages at the bay,
My sword our cables cut, I call’d to weigh;
And charged my men, as they from fate would fly,
Each nerve to strain, each bending oar to ply. 
The sailors catch the word, their oars they seize,
And sweep with equal strokes the smoky seas;
Clear of the rocks the impatient vessel flies;
Whilst in the port each wretch encumber’d dies. 
With earnest haste my frighted sailors press,
While kindling transports glow’d at our success;
But the sad fate that did our friends destroy,
Cool’d every breast, and damp’d the rising joy.

“Now dropp’d our anchors in the Aeaean bay,
Where Circe dwelt, the daughter of the Day! 
Her mother Perse, of old Ocean’s strain,
Thus from the Lun descended, and the Main
(From the same lineage stern Aeaetes came,
The far-famed brother of the enchantress dame);
Goddess, the queen, to whom the powers belong
Of dreadful magic and commanding song. 
Some god directing to this peaceful bay
Silent we came, and melancholy lay,
Spent and o’erwatch’d.  Two days and nights roll’d on,
And now the third succeeding morning shone. 
I climb’d a cliff, with spear and sword in hand,
Whose ridge o’erlook’d a shady length of land;
To learn if aught of mortal works appear,
Or cheerful voice of mortal strike the ear? 
From the high point I mark’d, in distant view,
A stream of curling smoke ascending blue,
And spiry tops, the tufted trees above,
Of Circe’s palace bosom’d in the grove.

“Thither to haste, the region to explore,
Was first my thought:  but speeding back to shore
I deem’d it best to visit first my crew,
And send our spies the dubious coast to view. 
As down the hill I solitary go,
Some power divine, who pities human woe,
Sent a tall stag, descending from the wood,
To cool his fervour in the crystal flood;
Luxuriant on the wave-worn bank he lay,
Stretch’d forth and panting in the sunny ray. 
I launch’d my spear, and with a sudden wound
Transpierced his back, and fix’d him to the ground. 
He falls, and mourns his fate with human cries: 
Through the wide wound the vital spirit flies. 
I drew, and casting on the river’s side
The bloody spear, his gather’d feet I tied
With twining osiers which the bank supplied. 
An ell in length the pliant wisp I weaved,
And the huge body on my shoulders heaved: 
Then leaning on my spear with both my hands,
Upbore my load, and press’d the sinking sands
With weighty steps, till at the ship I threw
The welcome burden, and bespoke my crew: 

“’Cheer up, my friends! it is not yet our fate
To glide with ghosts through Pluto’s gloomy gate. 
Food in the desert land, behold! is given! 
Live, and enjoy the providence of heaven.’