Ulysses follow’d through the watery road, A chief, in wisdom equal to a god. With those whom Cephalenia’s line inclosed, Or till their fields along the coast opposed; Or where fair Ithaca o’erlooks the floods, Where high Neritos shakes his waving woods, Where Ægilipa’s rugged sides are seen, Crocylia rocky, and Zacynthus green. These in twelve galleys with vermilion prores, Beneath his conduct sought the Phrygian shores.