The Argonautica

as earlier they allotted each man's place for rowing,

they sat in good order, each with his own battle-gear.

Midship, Ancaeus and Heracles in all his great strength

sat; Heracles laid his club there, close beside him;

beneath his feet the ship's keel plunged; already they drew in

the hawsers, pouring wine on the sea; meanwhile Jason

weeping, turned both his eyes away from his fatherland.

And just as young men form a dance for Phoebus at Pytho,

or perhaps Ortygia, or else Ismenus' flowing waters,

and under the lyre stand round the altar all together,

then strike the ground in rhythm with swiftly moving feet:

so, to Orpheus' lyre, all struck with their oars

the sea's rushing water; over the blades the surges washed.

On either side black brine spouted white with foam,

seething terribly, driven by those mighty heroes' strength.

Under the sun their armor flashed like flame as Argo went,

and long wake-paths kept whitening far behind the ship,

like a path showing clearly through the meadow's green grass.

All the gods looked down from heaven upon them that day,

on Argo and the demigods' strength, those men who then were best

as they sailed the broad sea; on the loftiest summits the nymphs

of Pelion, astonished, watched the wonder spread below,

the handiwork of Itonian Athena, and also the heroes themselves

swinging the oars with driving strokes from powerful hands.