Chapter_232

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Then a golden bowl their chieftain took in his hands, and high

On the stern unto Zeus the Father of the Heavenly Ones did he cry,

Unto him whose lance is the lightning; to the rushing feet did he pray

Of the waves, and the wild wind-pinions, to speed them on their way;

To the nights and the great deep’s highways he prayed, that the days might be

Gracious, and kindly the fortune of the home-return oversea.

And a voice of thunder propitious out of the welkin crashed,

And dazzling gleams of lightning from the rifted cloud-walls flashed.

And the heroes breathed more lightly, their hearts with comfort glowed,

For they put their trust in the tokens that God from his heaven forth-showed.