Sing to me, Muse, and through me tell the story
of that man skilled in all ways contending,
the wanderer, harried for years on end,
after he plundered the stronghold
on the proud height of Troy.
Now they made all secure in the fast black ship,
and setting out the winebowls a-brim.
and they made libation to the gods,
the undying, the ever new,
most of all to the grey-eyed daughter of Zeus.
And the prow sheared through the night into the dawn.
That last line could not be more vivid or effective. Ahhh.