The Collected Works of William Morris :: :: University of Virginia Library

Now, driven by the oar, and feeling well
The wind that made the fair white sail outswell,
Thessalian Argo flew on toward the place
Where first the rude folk saw dead Helle's face:
There, fearful of the darkness of the night,
Without the rocks they anchored till the light,
And when the day broke, sped them through the straits
With oars alone, and through the narrow gates
Came out into Propontis, where with oar
And sail together, within sight of shore,
They went, until the sun was falling down,
And then they saw the white walls of a town,
And made thereto, and soon being come anigh,
They found that on an isle the place did lie,
And Tiphys called it Cyzicum, a place
Built by a goodly man of a great race,
Himself called Cyzicus, Euzorus' son,
Who still in peace ruled over many an one,
Merchants and other, in that city fair.

Therefore, they thought it good to enter there,
And going softly, with sails struck, at last
Betwixt the two walls of a port they passed,
And on the quays beheld full many a man
Buying and selling, nigh the water wan.

So, as they touched the shore, a champion tall
Drew nigh, and bade them name themselves withal;
And when he heard, he cried: “O heroes, land,
For here shall all things be at your command;
And here shall you have good rest from the sea.”
Therewith he sent one to go speedily
And tell the king these folks were landed there.

Then passed the heroes forth upon the fair
Well-builded quays; and all the merchant-folk

Beholding them, from golden dreams awoke
And of the sword and clattering shield grew fain,
And glory for awhile they counted gain.

But Jason and his fair folk passing these,
Came to a square shaded about by trees,
Where they beheld the crowned king glorious stand
To wait them, who took Jason by the hand
And led him through the rows of linden trees
Unto his house, the crown of palaces;
And there he honoured them with royal feast
In his fair hall, hung round with man and beast
Wrought in fair Indian cloths, and on soft beds,
When they grew weary, did they lay their heads.

But he, when on the morn they would away,
Full many a rich gift in their keel did lay,
And while their oars were whitening the green sea,
Within his temple he prayed reverently
For their good hap to Jove the Saving God.
Hapless himself that these had ever trod
His quiet land; for, sailing all the day,
Becalmed at last at fall of night they lay;
And lying there, an hour before midnight
A black cloud rose that swallowed up the light
Of moon and stars, and therefrom leapt a wind
That drave the Argo, tottering, lame, and blind,
Back on her course, and as it died, at last
They heard the breakers roaring, and so cast
Their anchors out within some shallow bay,
They knew not where, to wait until the day.

There, as they waited, they saw beacons flame
Along the coast, and in a while there came
A rout of armed men thereto, as might seem
By shouts and clash of arms that now 'gan gleam
Beneath the light of torches that they bore.
Then could the heroes see that they from shore
Were distant scarce a bowshot, and the tide
Had ebbed so quick the sands were well-nigh dried

Betwixt them and the foremost of the foe,
Who, ere they could push off, began to go
Across the wet beach, and with many a cry
The biting arrows from their bows let fly.
Nor were the heroes slow to make return,
Aiming where'er they saw the torches burn.

So passed the night with little death of men;
But when the sky at last grew grey, and when
Dimly the Argo's crew could see their foes,
Then overboard they leapt, that they might close
With these scarce seen far-fighting enemies,
And so met man to man, crying their cries,
In deadly shock, but Jason, for his part,
Rushing before the rest, put by a dart
A tall man threw, and closing with him, drave
His spear through shield and breastplate weak to save
His heart from such an arm; then straight he fell
Dead on the sands, and with a wailing yell
The others, when they saw it, fled away,
And gat them swiftly to the forest grey
Which hedged the yellow sands the sea-flood's hem,
Nor gave the seafarers much chase to them,
But on the hard sand all together drew.

And now, day growing, they the country knew
And found it Cyzicum, and Jason said:
“Fellows, what have we done? by likely-head
An evil deed and luckless, but come now,
Draw off the helmet from this dead man's brow
And name him.” So when they had done this thing
They saw the face of Cyzicus the king.