Then he goeth to the shore in a flurry of fantasies roaming,
And he hurleth the waves through the night and he hurrieth them forward,
And he lieth with his face down in the moon-sparkled waters
And he swimmeth 'twards Ithaca through the Aegean darkness.
And although he has no faith at all, yes, not even a glimmer,
He sees off his triremes by the cape disappear and shimmer.
What'd he fought for, why'd caused the Immortals to ire?
And his eyes dimly shine in the night, b'coming one with the mire.