The Argonautica

Already the clashing rocks' loud, pounding crash

beat without pause on their ears; the salt-washed shores roared.

Then Euphemus rose, the dove clasped fast in his hand,

and moved to mount the high prow. At the commanding word

of Tiphys, Hagnias' son, the men with willing strength

took up the rowing, meaning then to drive between

the rocks, trusting their power. Rounding the bend, at once

they saw them opening, the last of mortal men to see.

Their hearts dissolved within them. Euphemus sent the dove

darting ahead on wings; together all the heroes

lifted their heads to watch the dove fly through the rocks;

then both rocks charged together, opposite each other,

met face to face as one, and thundered as they closed.

A mighty mass of brine boiled upward like a cloud;

the sea cried terribly, and all the great sky groaned around.

The hollow caves lay deep beneath the craggy reefs

and boomed within as surging seawater climbed the cliff;

white foam from the churning wave spouted skyward.

Then round the ship the current coiled; the rocks clipped off

the outer tips of the dove's tail-feathers; she shot free,

unharmed. The rowers cried aloud, and Tiphys himself

roared: “Drive the oars with all your strength!” The rocks

opened again; fear gripped them till the flood returned,

surged upward, sweeping Argo backward and down