Poems of Places: Italy

We sail, whence lies our way to Italy,
The shortest course by sea. Meanwhile the sun
Goes down; the shadowy mountains hide in night.
On the earth's welcome lap we throw ourselves,
Beside the waves, the watch being set on board,
And here and there along the sandy beach
Refresh ourselves with food. Our weary limbs
Are bathed in sleep. Not yet the night had reached
Her middle course, when Palinurus leaves
His bed, — no sluggard he, — and all the winds
Essays, listening to catch their sounds; and notes
In the still sky the softly gliding stars,
Arcturus, and the rainy Hyades,
And the two Bears, and armed Orion bright
With gold. And when he sees that all is still
Amid the heavens serene, he from the stern
Gives the clear signal. Then we strike our tents,
And try the voyage, with our wingéd sails.

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