Overtaking them far away where the Floating Islands swim—
But Iris the Storm-foot beheld them, and downward she plunged from the sky
Through a whirlwind of air, and with words of restraining aloud did she cry:
“Sons of the North-wind, forefended it is that ye smite with the sword
The Harpies, great Zeus’s hounds; but myself will pronounce the word
Of the oath that shall hold them from lighting again on the ancient’s board.”
Then spake she the words of the Oath of the Styx, the oath most dread
Unto all the Gods, whose reverence guardeth the words once said,
That the Harpies should never thereafter draw nigh unto Phineus’ hall,
To the home of Agênor’s son, for so was it doomed to befall.
To the oath then yielded the heroes, and backward they turned their flight
Unto the ship; and the Strophads, the Isles of Return, were they hight
Therefrom, which of old the Floating Isles had been called of men.
And the Harpies and Iris parted, and into their cavern-den
In Krêtê, the land of Minos, they plunged: but Olympus-ward
Uplifted ’twixt heaven and earth on her swift wings Iris soared.
But the heroes bathed and anointed the skin all fouled and sere
Of the ancient the while; and the choice of the fatlings they slew for their cheer,
Of the flock which they bare away of the spoil of Amykus dead.
So when in the halls a plenteous eventide-feast they had spread,
They feasted; and Phineus amidst them was like unto them that dream,
As from ravenous hunger he cheered his heart, so strange did it seem.
So there, when with meats and with wine they had satisfied all their need,
Through the long night kept they vigil, and waited for Boreas’ seed.
And the ancient sat in their midst in the ruddy glow of the fire;
And he told of their voyaging’s bourn, and the end of their desire:
“Give ear unto me:—forefended it is that ye hear all through
Your fate:—whatsoe’er seemeth good to the Gods I will hide not from you.
Mad was I of yore, when I spake unto Earth’s sons Zeus’s will
In all points unto the end: for this is his pleasure still
To reveal unto men his oracles short of the fullness of doom,
That so they may lean on the Gods, and faith and prayer have room.
The Rocks Kyanean first, when that gotten ye are from me,
In the place where the two seas meet, the Dark Blue Crags, shall ye see.
Through that dread pass no pilot, I ween, hath prevailed to go;
For rooted they are not to earth on foundations of rock therebelow;
But with rush and recoil unceasingly each against other they clash:
High over them archeth the crested brine, and the foam-feathers flash
From the seething cauldron: the precipice-foreland thundereth aye.
Wherefore to this my counsel give good heed, and obey,
If indeed with prudent soul and with fear of the Gods on high
Ye essay this Quest, that by doom self-sought ye may not die
As the fool, nor in rashness of youth essay to rush thereby.
First with a bird, with a white-winged dove, shall ye make assay,
Speeding her flight from the ship’s prow. If she shall win her way
Safe ’twixt the Crags of Terror, and out to the open sea,
No longer thereafter from daring the selfsame path shrink ye;
But grip ye the oars in your hands, and put forth your uttermost might
Cleaving the gorge of the sea, for that safety’s deliverance-light
Shall not be in prayer so much as the strength of your hands and the strain.
Wherefore let all else be, and toil ye with might and main
Boldly: but ere then pray as ye list; I say not nay.
But and if the death-trap clutch in the midst the dove, and slay,
Then sail ye aback; for better by far it is that ye
Should yield to the Deathless. The evil fate should ye nowise flee
Of the Rocks—no, not though fashioned of iron your Argo should be.
O wretches, dare not to transgress the warning my tongue hath given,
Though thrice so much ye account me abhorred of the Dwellers in Heaven—
Yea, though it were more than thrice—as I am by my grievous sin,
Yet dare not to flout the omen, to thrust your galley therein!
And these things shall fall as they haply shall fall. But if scatheless ye shun
The rush of the Clashing Rocks, and the Pontus Sea shall be won,
Sailing therefrom, the Bithynians’ land to your right shall ye keep,
Ever heedfully standing out from the reefs, until ye shall sweep
Round the outfall of swift-flowing Rheba, and round the headland dark,
And within the haven of Thynê’s isle shall anchor your bark.
Thence turn ye aback for a little space o’er the long sea-swell,
Till ye beach your keel on the strand where the Mariandynians dwell.
Thereby is a path through darkness descending to Hades’ hall,
And the Cape Acherusian towereth upward, a giant wall.
And swirling Acheron cleaving the mountain’s heart unseen
Suddenly poureth forth his flood from a mighty ravine.
Thereby many column-hills of the Paphlagonian shore
Shall ye pass, the nation whose king was in Enetê born of yore,
Even Pelops; and yet do they boast them sprung from his princely line.
And a headland there is, looking full where the circling Bear doth shine,
A crag exceeding steep, and Karambis it hath to name.
The blasts of the North-wind are sundered about the crest of the same,
So sheer doth it spring from the sea, so sharply it cleaveth the air.
Now when ye have rounded the same, lo, stretcheth before you there
A great beach: far at the end of the gleaming strand’s long sweep
’Neath a jutting foreland the waters of Halys seaward leap
Terribly roaring; and hard thereby doth Iris go,
A lesser river, whose swirls soft-rippling gently flow.
And onward from thence is the bend of a huge cape towering high
Up from the land, and the mouth of the river Thermodon thereby,
Where the height Themiskyrian watcheth the sleeping bay at its side,
Cometh murmuring still of her journeyings over the mainland wide.
There is the plain of Doias, the cities three rise near
Of the Amazon Maids: then they whose lot is of all most drear,
The Chalybes, dwell in a rugged land on a stubborn soil,
Smithying-craftsmen; in forging of iron ever
