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with grief and fury stung,
Prone down the rocky steep he rush'd along;
Fierce as he pass'd, the lofty mountains nod,
The forest shakes; earth trembled as he trod,
And felt the footsteps of the immortal god.
From realm to realm three ample strides he took,
And, at the fourth, the distant Ćgae shook.
Far in the bay his shining palace stands,
Eternal frame! not raised by mortal hands:
This having reach'd, his brass-hoof'd steeds he reins,
Fleet as the winds, and deck'd with go
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for Samos. Here being recognized by a Samian, who had met with him in
Chios, he was handsomely received, and invited to join in celebrating the
Apaturian festival. He recited some verses, which gave great satisfaction,
and by singing the Eiresione at the New Moon festivals, he earned a
subsistence, visiting the houses of the rich, with whose children he was
very popular.
In the spring he sailed for Athens, and arrived at the island of Ios, now
Ino, where he fell extremely ill, and died. It is said that his death
arose from vexation, at not having been able to unravel an enigma proposed
by some fishermen's children.(15)
Such is, in brief, the substance of the earliest life of Homer we possess,
and so broad are the evidences of its historical worthlessness, that it is
scarcely necessary to point them out in detail. Let us now consider some
of the opinions to which a persevering, patient, and learned--but by no
means consistent--series of investigations has led. In doing so, I profess
to bring forward statements, not to vouch for their reasonableness or
probability.
"Homer appeared. The history of this poet and his works is lost in
doubtful obscurity, as is the history of many of the first minds who have
done honour to humanity, because they rose amidst darkness. The majestic
stream of his song, blessing and fertilizing, flows like the Nile, through
many lands and nations; and, like the sources of the Nile, its fountains
will ever remain concealed."
Such are the words in which one of the most judicious German critics has
eloquently described the uncertainty in which the whole of the Homeric
question is involved. With no less truth and feeling he proceeds:--
"It seems here of chief importance to expect no more than the nature of
things makes possible. If the period of tradition in history is the region
of twilight, we should not expect in it perfect light. The creations of
genius always seem like miracles, because they are, for the most part,
created far out o