Chapter 29

“Thus having said, he bids us put to sea; We loose from shore our haulsers, and obey, And soon with swelling sails pursue the wat’ry way. Amidst our course, Zacynthian woods appear; And next by rocky Neritos we steer: We fly from Ithaca’s detested shore, And curse the land which dire Ulysses bore. At length Leucate’s cloudy top appears, And the Sun’s temple, which the sailor fears. Resolv’d to breathe a while from labour past, Our crooked anchors from the …