"Now meantime in her halls her maids were busy; Four maids, who do the service of her house; And they are children of the wells and woods And sacred streams that flow forth to the sea. One of her maids was spreading o’er the chairs Fine purple rugs above and under them A linen cover; while another drew Tables of silver up beside the seats And set on them gold baskets; and the third Mixed in a silver bowl the honeyed wine Most sweet, and served out golden cups; the fourth Brought water, and then kindled a big fire Beneath a mighty cauldron, and the water Drew hot, and when it boiled in the bright bronze, She set me in a bath and tempering it To comfortable warmth, she bathed me with it From the great cauldron, pouring water down My head and shoulders, till she took away Heart-breaking weariness from all my limbs. But when she had bathed and had anointed me With olive oil, a goodly cloak and tunic She wrapt around me, and then brought me in, And placed me on a silver-studded chair, A fine, rich chair, with a foot-stool beneath. Then a maid brought me water for my hands, And poured it from a fair gold jug for washing Above a silver basin, and drew up Near me a polished board; and a grave dame Brought and set bread and added many dainties, Providing generously of what she had, And bade me eat. But my heart liked it not: With other thoughts I sate, and boded evil. [...] “O Circe, what right-minded man could ever Endure to taste of meat and drink, before He had redeemed his men, and had beheld them With his own eyes? But if in kindliness Thou bidst me eat and drink, then let them go, That mine eyes may behold my trusty friends.” At that, out through the hall with wand in hand Went Circe, and she opened the stye-doors And drove them out like swine of nine years old: And there they stood before her, and she went Among them, and anointed each of them With a new charm: and from their limbs fell off The bristles, which the deadly drug had made Grow on them, that the lady Circe gave them: And they were men once more, and younger than They were before and goodlier far and taller To see: and they all knew me, and each man Clung to my hands, and o’er them all there came Passionate sobbing, till the house around Resounded strangely. Even the goddess herself Was moved to pity, [...] Within her bouse meantime in kindly wise Had Circe bathed and rubbed with olive oil And clad my other men in woolly cloaks And tunics; and we found them all within Feasting in state. But when they saw and knew Each other face to face, they wept and wailed Till the house rang around: but near she came, That radiant goddess, and to me she said: “Set up no more this strong lament: I know Myself of all the pains ye have endured Upon the fishy deep, and all the wrongs That cruel men have done to you on land: But come, eat meat and drink ye wine, until Ye get again such spirit in your breasts As when at first ye left your native land, Rough Ithaca: but now are ye dried up, And listless, thinking always of the toil Of roving, and your heart is never merry, Because in truth ye have been sorely tried.” So said she, and our lordly souls assented. So there for one full year day after day Feasting on meat abundant and sweet wine We tarried. [...]"