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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395876" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Seventeenth Book Of Homer's Odysseys</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">...<br> Such speech they chang'd; when in the yard there lay<br> A dog, call'd Argus, which, before his way<br> Assum'd for Ilion, Ulysses bred,<br> Yet stood his pleasure then in little stead,<br> As being too young; but, growing to his grace,<br> Young men made choice of him for every chace,<br> Or of their wild goats, of their hares, or harts.<br> But his king gone, and he, now past his parts,<br> Lay all abjectly on the stable's store,<br> Before the oxstall, and mules' stable door,<br> To keep the clothes cast from the peasants' hands,<br> While they laid compass on Ulysses' lands;<br> The dog, with ticks (unlook'd-to) over-grown.<br> But by this dog no sooner seen but known<br> Was wise Ulysses, who new enter'd there,<br> Up went his dog's laid ears, and, coming near,<br> Up he himself rose, fawn'd, and wagg'd his stern,<br> Couch'd close his ears, and lay so; nor discern<br> Could evermore his dear-lov'd lord again.<br> Ulysses saw it, nor had power t' abstain<br> From shedding tears; which (far-off seeing his swain)<br> He dried from his sight clean; to whom he thus<br> His grief dissembled: &quot;'Tis miraculous,<br> That such a dog as this should have his lair<br> On such a dunghill, for his form is fair.<br> And yet, I know not, if there were in him<br> Good pace, or parts, for all his goodly limb;<br> Or he liv'd empty of those inward things,<br> As are those trencher-beagles tending kings,<br> Whom for their pleasure's, or their glory's sake,<br> Or fashion, they into their favour take.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> &quot;This dog,&quot; said he, &quot;was servant to one dead<br> A huge time since. But if he bore his head,<br> For form and quality, of such a height,<br> As when Ulysses, bound for th' Ilion fight,<br> Or quickly after, left him, your rapt eyes<br> Would then admire to see him use his thighs<br> In strength and swiftness. He would nothing fly,<br> Nor anything let scape; if once his eye<br> Seiz'd any wild beast, he knew straight his scent;<br> Go where he would, away with him he went.<br> Nor was there ever any savage stood<br> Amongst the thickets of the deepest wood<br> Long time before him, but he pull'd him down;<br> As well by that true hunting to be shown<br> In such vast coverts, as for speed of pace<br> In any open lawn. For in deep chace<br> He was a passing wise and well-nos'd hound.<br> And yet is all this good in him uncrown'd<br> With any grace here now; nor he more fed<br> Than any errant cur. His king is dead,<br> Far from his country; and his servants are<br> So negligent they lend his hound no care.<br> Where masters rule not, but let men alone,<br> You never there see honest service done.<br> That man's half virtue Jove takes quite away,<br> That once is sun-burn'd with the servile day.&quot;<br> This said, he enter'd the well-builded towers,<br> Up bearing right upon the glorious wooers,<br> And left poor Argus dead; his lord's first sight<br> Since that time twenty years bereft his light.<br>...</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Chapman">George Chapman</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=395876" data-title="The Seventeenth Book Of Homer's Odysseys de George Chapman" data-description="...
 Such speech they chang'd; when in the yard there lay
 A dog, call'd Argus, which, before his way
 Assum'd for Ilion, Ulysses bred,
 Yet stood his pleasure then in little stead,
 As being too young; but, growing to his grace,
 Young men made c..."></div>
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