Still of your competence 'twas within your household to home me,Where I might serve as slave in gladsome service familiar,Laving your snow-white feet in clearest chrystalline watersOr with its purpling gear your couch in company strewing.Yet for what cause should I complain in vain to the winds that unknow me,(I so beside me with grief!) which ne'er of senses enduedHear not the words sent forth nor aught avail they to answer?Now be his course well-nigh engaged in midway of ocean,Nor any mortal shape appears in barrens of sea-wrack.Thus at the latest hour with insults over-sufficientE'en to my plaints fere Fate begrudges ears that would hear me.Jupiter! Lord of All-might, Oh would in days that are bygoneNe'er had Cecropian poops toucht ground at Gnossian foreshore,Nor to the unconquered Bull that tribute direful conveyingHad the false Seaman bound to Cretan island his hawser,Nor had yon evil wight, 'neath shape the softest hard purposeHiding, enjoyed repose within our mansion beguested!Whither can wend I now? What hope lends help to the lost one?Idomenean mounts shall I scale? Ah, parted by whirlpoolsWidest, yon truculent main where yields it power of passage?