While all the time our craft sailed like a bloodclot
The intricate sea-veins and sought the brain
Where even the fanciful lotus would fail to still our pain.
We left oblivion far behind us, in the reeking courts of Troy.
In Cyclops' cavern and in witch's pigsty
Deeper than fear or hate we knew the ache
For simpler things, the smart of sunburnt shoulder,
The dip of oars, the joke and all its laughter,
The times we traded peacefully with Troy.
But Circe and Calypso kept our master
And everywhere he feasted long and bragged.
More than was decent of his ancient exploits.
What did he fear to find at the end of the voyage?
His wife grown ugly, withered hands and lips
Mumbling a garbled story of his youth?
Or joy and ripeness in the flowing acres
Characteristically, Lewis, through the speaker, asks a  rhetorical question , mid-poem which forms a pivot. The speaker’s view of the journey and his leader become increasingly detailed.
The Odyssey