For brave Ulysses, a vat of pluck
Could not make up for his lack of luck,
For upon some hilly slopes of lore
Beached Ulysses’ ships and his men ashore,
Where dwelling in these hills of misfortune
Was Polyphemus, the son of Poseidon.

So starved were Ulysses’ landed sailors
That when they smelled the meaty flavors,
They leapt upon the roast with passion
With little a mind for the boulder a-crashin’.
But Ulysses—alert with a clever wit—
Made Polyphemus the cyclops throw a great fit.

Once the boulder a-crashin’ had come to a rest,
The monster had eaten a few of his guests.
While others thought not of the least opposition,
Ulysses had schemed with a sly proposition.
He donned the name “Nemo,” gave wine to the giant,
Sure, that with interest, he would be compliant.
Again was the strategist right in his thinking,
For in a split second the giant was sleeping.

Suddenly in the peak of his slumber
He sobered up and woke with a thunder.
A terrible pain had pierced his sole eye
And he clutched at the wound and gave a great cry:
“Nemo has blinded me—‘Nobody’, ‘Nobody’!”
And out rushed his brothers, stout and quite ruddy.
They asked for the culprit, then they called him a fool;
They returned to their caves, deprived of a duel.

Leaving the cyclops on shore, Ulysses set sail
While revealing the stunts to his sly, cunning tale.
Poseidon, in turn, sought revenge for his son
Thus Ulysses was blown back to where he’d begun.