Chapter_211

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“Howbeit for that guest-feasting the heroes might not stay,

For the lure of the sweet home-coming beckoned them ever away.

But Eurypylus he named him, deathless Earth-shaker’s son,

Born of the Land-enfolder: yet marking our haste to begone,

He put forth his hand, and straightway caught up from the earth a clod

As it lay at his feet, and proffered the same as the gift of a god.

Nor scorned it Euphemus, but leaping from Argo’s deck to the strand

He received that fateful guest-gift, and clasped the giver’s hand.

But alas, it abode not with us! Washed over the galley’s side

It fleeted away on the sea-brine in the dusk of eventide