llen on this desolation, even though breezes
should blow from the land; for, as I gaze far around, on every side do I
behold a sea of shoals, and masses of water, fretted line upon line, run
over the hoary sand. And miserably long ago would our sacred ship have
been shattered far from the shore; but the tide itself bore her high on
to the land from the deep sea. But now the tide rushes back to the sea,
and only the foam, whereon no ship can sail, rolls round us, just
covering the land. Wherefore I deem that all hope of our voyage and of
our return is cut off. Let someone else show his skill; let him sit at
the helm--the man that is eager for our deliverance. But Zeus has no
will to fulfil our day of return after all our toils."

Thus he spake with tears, and all of them that had knowledge of ships
agreed thereto; but the hearts of all grew numb, and pallor overspread
their cheeks. And as, like lifeless spectres, men roam through a city
awaiting the issue of war or of pestilence, or some mighty storm which
overwhelms the countless labours of oxen, when the images of their own
accord sweat and run down with blood, and bellowings are heard in
temples, or when at mid-day the sun draws on night from heaven, and the
stars shine clear through the mist; so at that time along the endless
strand the chieftains wandered, groping their way. Then straightway dark
evening came upon them; and piteously did they embrace each other and
say farewell with tears, that they might, each one apart from his
fellow, fall on the sand and die. And this way and that they went
further to choose a resting-place; and they wrapped their heads in their
cloaks and, fasting and unfed, lay down all that night and the day,
awaiting a piteous death. But apart the maidens huddled together
lamented beside the daughter of Aeetes. And as when, forsaken by their
mother, unfledged birds that have fallen from a cleft in the rock chirp
shrilly; or when by the banks of fair-flowing Pactolus, swans raise
their song, and all around the dewy meadow echoes and the river's fair
stream; so these maidens, laying in the dust their golden hair, all
through the night wailed their piteous lament. And there all would have
parted from life without a name and unknown to mortal men, those bravest
of heroes, with their task unfulfilled; but as they pined in despair,
the heroine-nymphs, warders of Libya, had pity on them, they who once
found Athena, what time she leapt in gleaming ar