———Speciosa dehinc miracula promit,
Antiphaten Scyllamque, et cum Cyclope Charybdim.
But from a cloud of smoke he breaks to light,
And pours his specious miracles to sight;
Antiphates his hideous feast devours,
Charybdis barks, and Polyphemus roars.

Ἄνδρά μοι ἔννεπε Μοῦσα πολύτροπον, ὃς μάλα πολλὰ
Πλάγχθη, ἐπεὶ Τροίης ἱερον πτολίεθρον ἔπερσε·
Πολλῶν δ᾿ ἀνθρώπων ἴδεν ἄστεα, καὶ νόον ἔγνω,
Πολλὰ δ´ ὅγ´ ἐν πόντῳ πάθεν ἄλγεα ὁν κατὰ θυμόν,
Ἀρνὺμενος ἡν τε ψυχὴν καὶ νόστον ἑταίρῳν.
Ἀλλ´ οὐδ´ ὧς ἑτάρους ἐρρύσατο, ἱέμενός περ·
Αὐτῶν γὰρ σφετέρῃσιν ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ὄλοντο,
Νήπιοι, οἳ κατὰ βοῦς Ὑπερίονος Ἡελίοιο
Ἠσθιον· αὐτὰρ ὁ τοῖσιν ἀφείλετο νόστιμον ἠμαρ,
Τῶν ἀμόθεν γε, θεὰ, θύγατερ Διὸς, εἰπὲ καὶ ἡμῖν.
The man, for wisdom's various arts renown'd,
Long exercised in woes, O muse! resound.
Who, when his arms had wrought the destin'd fall
Of sacred Troy, and raz'd her heav'n-built wall,
Wandering from clime to clime observant stray'd,
Their manners noted, and their states survey'd.
On stormy seas unnumber'd toils he bore,
Safe with his friends to gain his natal shore:
Vain toils! their impious folly dar'd to prey
On herds devoted to the god of day;
The god vindictive doom'd them never more
(Ah! men unbless'd) to touch that natal shore.
O snatch some portion of these acts from fate,
Celestial muse! and to our world relate.