From the stern loud cries The pilot Palinurus: "Whence and why This cloudy rack that gathers o'er the skies?
What, father Neptune, now, what mischief dost devise ?" III.

So having said, he bade the seamen take The tackling in, and ply the lusty oar, Then sloped the mainsheet to the wind, and spake: "Noble AEneas, e'en if high Jove swore To bring us safely to Italia's shore, With skies like these, 'twere hopeless.

Westward loom The dark clouds mustering, and the changed winds roar Athwart us, and the air is thick with gloom.
Vainly we strive to move, and struggle with our doom.
IV.

"Come, then, since Fortune hath the mastering hand, Yield we and turn.

Not far, methinks, there lies A friendly shore, thy brother Eryx' land, And ports Sicanian, if aright these eyes Recall my former reading of the skies." Then good AEneas: "Long ago, 'tis plain, The winds so willed it.