Chapter_233

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And of hopes with fear unmingled the seer spake, while he bade

To smite with the oar the waters: the swiftly-flashing blade

Swung by their hands untiring over the sea sped on,

And the south-wind onward-wafting blew; and so they won

To the mouth of the Sea Unfriendly: there made they a holy place

To the Lord of the Deep; and a red-felled herd of the bulls of Thrace

Was there, and a new-built altar of stone with a basin therein.

And now, as they sped on, deeper they plunged into peril’s gin.