Classic Poem

Just then, forgetful of the strict command
Of Circe to forbear, I cloth'd my limbs
In radiant armour, grasp'd two quiv'ring spears,
And to the deck ascended at the prow,
Expecting earliest notice there, what time
The rock-bred Scylla should annoy my friends.
But I discern'd her not, nor could, although
To weariness of sight the dusky rock
I vigilant explor'd. Thus, many a groan
Heaving, we navigated sad the strait,
For here stood Scylla, while Charybdis there
With hoarse throat deep absorb'd the briny flood.
Oft as she vomited the deluge forth,
Like water caldron'd o'er a furious fire
The whirling Deep all murmur'd, and the spray
On both those rocky summits fell in show'rs.
But when she suck'd the salt wave down again,
Then all the pool appear'd wheeling about
Within, the rock rebellow'd, and the sea,
Drawn off into that gulf, disclos'd to view
The oozy bottom. Us pale horrour seiz'd.
Thus, dreading death, with fast-set eyes we watch'd
Charybdis; mean-time Scylla from the bark
Caught six away, the bravest of my friends;
And, as I watching stood the galley's course
And them within, uplifted high in air
Their legs and arms I saw. My name aloud
Pronouncing in their agony, they went,
My name, and never to pronounce it more.
As when from some bold point among the rocks
The angler, with his taper rod in hand,
Casts forth his bait, to snare the smaller fry,
He swings away remote his guarded line,
Then jerks aground at once the struggling prey,
So Scylla them rais'd struggling to the rock,
And at her cavern's mouth devour'd them all,
Shrieking and stretching forth to me their arms
In sign of hopeless mis'ry.