While thus the weary wanderer sunk to rest,
And peaceful slumbers calmed his anxious breast,
The martial maid from heavens aerial height
Swift to Phaeacia wing’d her rapid flight,
In elder times the soft Phaeacian train
In ease possess’d the wide Hyperian plain;
Till the Cyclopean race in arms arose
A lawless nation of gigantic foes;
Then great Nausithous from Hyperia far,
Through seas retreating from the sounds of war,
The recreant nation to fair Scheria led,
Where never science rear’d her laurell’d head;
There round his tribes a strength of wall he raised;
To heaven the glittering domes and temples blazed;
Just to his realms, he parted grounds from grounds,
And shared the lands, and gave the lands their bounds. 
Now in the silent grave the monarch lay,
And wise Alcinous held the legal sway.

To his high palace through the fields of air
The goddess shot; Ulysses was her care. 
There, as the night in silence roll’d away,
A heaven of charms divine Nausicaa lay: 
Through the thick gloom the shining portals blaze;
Two nymphs the portals guard, each nymph a Grace,
Light as the viewless air the warrior maid
Glides through the valves, and hovers round her head;
A favourite virgin’s blooming form she took,
From Dymas sprung, and thus the vision spoke: 

“Oh Indolent! to waste thy hours away! 
And sleep’st thou careless of the bridal day! 
Thy spousal ornament neglected lies;
Arise, prepare the bridal train, arise! 
A just applause the cares of dress impart,
And give soft transport to a parent’s heart. 
Haste, to the limpid stream direct thy way,
When the gay morn unveils her smiling ray;
Haste to the stream! companion of thy care,
Lo, I thy steps attend, thy labours share. 
Virgin, awake! the marriage hour is nigh,
See from their thrones thy kindred monarchs sigh! 
The royal car at early dawn obtain,
And order mules obedient to the rein;
For rough the way, and distant rolls the wave,
Where their fair vests Phaeacian virgins lave,
In pomp ride forth; for pomp becomes the great
And majesty derives a grace from state.” 
Then to the palaces of heaven she sails,
Incumbent on the wings of wafting gales;
The seat of gods; the regions mild of peace,
Full joy, and calm eternity of ease. 
There no rude winds presume to shake the skies,
No rains descend, no snowy vapours rise;
But on immortal thrones the blest repose;
The firmament with living splendours glows. 
Hither the goddess winged the aerial way,
Through heaven’s eternal gates that blazed with day.

Now from her rosy car Aurora shed
The dawn, and all the orient flamed with red. 
Up rose the virgin with the morning light,
Obedient to the vision of the night. 
The queen she sought, the queen her hours bestowed
In curious works; the whirling spindle glow’d
With crimson threads, while busy damsels call
The snowy fleece, or twist the purpled wool. 
Meanwhile Phaeacia’s peers in council sate;
From his high dome the king descends in state;
Then with a filial awe the royal maid
Approach’d him passing, and submissive said: