Yet there cometh Oblivion’s wildering mist, to misguide
The hearts of men, and to cause them to swerve aside
From the deed’s straight path; and so it befell that these
Not bearing the seed of flame to the altar drew nigh.
So with fireless rites did they plant those hallowed trees
On their citadel’s height. Yet Zeus drew over their sky
A fire-hued cloud whence rained gold plenteously,
And the Grey-eyed made them in all craft-mysteries