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

Then by the sun his way Erginus guessed,
For on no side could they see any land;
But as upon the helm he set his hand
Such mighty light blazed out upon the prow,
That faint and yellow did the sunlight show
Beside it, and amidst it they beheld
The figure that ere now their hands had held
Anigh the Mysian shore; and now it said:

“O heroes, wherefore haste ye to be dead?
Behold, while through the heart of yonder fog
I, Argo, drifted as an unsteered log,
Æetes passed us going towards the straits,
And now is lying ready by the gates;
Nor with one ship alone, but with ten keels,
Raised from his subject kings and commonweals,
Abides your coming, hoping soon to see
Your bodies on the shore lie wretchedly,
While to the Gods he offers bulls and sheep;
But your fair helper and your joy will keep,
That she in Æa unavenged may burn.

“But now the Gods, taking your swift return
Away from you, yet will not let you die;
But bid you, taking heart, turn presently
Unto the northern shore of this ill sea;
There by a mighty river shall ye be,
Along whose sides dwell the Sarmatian folk,
Knowing no arts, untaught to bear the yoke
Of equal laws; into this river's mouth
Straight must ye enter, and forget the south,
And many unknown lands and unknown seas,
And deadly forests, vocal with no breeze,
Shall ye go wandering through; but, long time past,
Unto the seas ye know shall come at last,

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And sailing by the western garden fair
Toward the Italian shore, shall ye find there
Circe the wise, the wonder of all lands,
Thy father's sister, lady, at whose hands
Of late-wrought guilt shall ye be purified.

“And so, by many troubles being tried,
Unto Iolchos shall ye all come back
Except some few; nor there find any lack
Of much-desired wealth and babbling praise,
And so each man depart unto such days
As the Fates grant him, be they good or ill,
With death at last according to their will.”

With these last words she vanished quite away,
And these, left floating on that dawn of day,
Felt severed utterly from hoped-for things;
Like some caged eagle that, with fluttering wings,
Beats at his bars, beholding far away
His windy eyrie up the mountain grey.
—A while ago, and every man nigh saw
The long white walls rise sunny without flaw
From out the curled white edges of the sea;
Yea, almost felt as if they well might be
In fair Iolchos that same afternoon.
And now how many and many a glittering moon
Must fill her horns up, while their lives are spent
In unknown lands 'mid helpless dreariment!