Beds of all various herbs, for ever green,
In beauteous order terminate the scene.

Two plenteous fountains the whole prospect crown’d
This through the gardens leads its streams around
Visits each plant, and waters all the ground;
While that in pipes beneath the palace flows,
And thence its current on the town bestows: 
To various use their various streams they bring,
The people one, and one supplies the king.

Such were the glories which the gods ordain’d,
To grace Alcinous, and his happy land. 
E’en from the chief whom men and nations knew,
The unwonted scene surprise and rapture drew;
In pleasing thought he ran the prospect o’er,
Then hasty enter’d at the lofty door. 
Night now approaching, in the palace stand,
With goblets crown’d, the rulers of the land;
Prepared for rest, and offering to the god
Who bears the virtue of the sleepy rod,
Unseen he glided through the joyous crowd,
With darkness circled, and an ambient cloud. 
Direct to great Alcinous’ throne he came,
And prostrate fell before the imperial dame. 
Then from around him dropp’d the veil of night;
Sudden he shines, and manifest to sight. 
The nobles gaze, with awful fear oppress’d;
Silent they gaze, and eye the godlike guest.

“Daughter of great Rhexenor! (thus began,
Low at her knees, the much-enduring man)
To thee, thy consort, and this royal train,
To all that share the blessings of your reign,
A suppliant bends:  oh pity human woe! 
’Tis what the happy to the unhappy owe. 
A wretched exile to his country send,
Long worn with griefs, and long without a friend
So may the gods your better days increase,
And all your joys descend on all your race;
So reign for ever on your country’s breast,
Your people blessing, by your people bless’d!”

Then to the genial hearth he bow’d his face,
And humbled in the ashes took his place. 
Silence ensued.  The eldest first began,
Echeneus sage, a venerable man! 
Whose well-taught mind the present age surpass’d,
And join’d to that the experience of the last. 
Fit words attended on his weighty sense,
And mild persuasion flow’d in eloquence.

“Oh sight (he cried) dishonest and unjust! 
A guest, a stranger, seated in the dust! 
To raise the lowly suppliant from the ground
Befits a monarch.  Lo! the peers around
But wait thy word, the gentle guest to grace,
And seat him fair in some distinguish’d place. 
Let first the herald due libation pay
To Jove, who guides the wanderer on his way: 
Then set the genial banquet in his view,
And give the stranger-guest a stranger’s due.”