GetPassage urn:cts:latinLit:phi1103.phi001.lascivaroma-eng1:70.15-70.29 urn:cts:latinLit:phi1103.phi001.lascivaroma-eng1:70.15-70.29

Here too of Circe we read and Calypso, daughter of Atlas,Bearing the mighty commands dealt by Dulichian BraveWhom did Alcinous' maiden admire by cause of his memberFor with a leafy branch hardly that yard could be dad.Yet was he hasting, his way to regain his little old woman:Thy coynte (Penelope!) claiming his every thought;Thou who bidest so chaste with mind ever set upon banquetsAnd with a futtering crew alway thy palace was filled:Then that thou learn of these which were most potent of swiving,Wont wast thou to bespeak, saying to suitors erect--'Than my Ulysses none was better at drawing the bowstringWhether by muscles of side or by superior skill;And, as he now is deceased, do ye all draw and inform meWhich of ye men be the best so that my man he become.'Thy heart, Penelope, right sure by such pow'r I had pleasèd,