1 Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades Vex'd the dim sea. I am become a name; For always roaming with a hungry heart Much have I seen and known, cities of men, And manners, climates, councils, governments, Myself not least, but honor'd of them all, And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy. Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades 20 For ever and for ever when I move. Were all too little, and of one to me A bringer of new things; and vile it were For some three suns to store and hoard myself, And this gray spirit yearning in desire 30 To follow knowledge like a sinking star, Beyond the utmost bound of human thought. This is my son, mine own Telemachus, To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil This labor, by slow prudence to make mild A group of stars formerly associated with wet weather. A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees Subdue them to the useful and the good. Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere Of common duties, decent not to fail 40 In offices of tenderness, and pay Meet adoration to my household gods, When I am gone. He works his work, I mine. There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail: There gloom the dark broad seas. My mariners, Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me, That ever with a frolic welcome took The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed Free hearts, free foreheads,-you and I are old; Old age hath yet his honor and his toil. 50 Death closes all; but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be |