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

There in the wind they hung, as word by word
The clear-voiced singers silently they heard;
But when the air was barren of their song,
Anigh the shore they durst not linger long,
So northward turned forewearied Argo's head,
And dipping oars, from that fair country sped,
Fulfilled of new desires and pensive thought,
Which that day's life unto their hearts had brought.

Then hard they toiled upon the bitter sea,
And in two days they did not fail to be
In sight of land, a headland high and blue,
Which straight Milesian Erginus knew
To be the fateful place which now they sought,
Stormy Malea, so thitherward they brought
The groaning ship, and casting anchor, lay
Beneath that headland's lee, within a bay,
Wherefrom the more part landed, and their feet
Once more the happy soil of Greece did meet.

Therewith they failèd not to bring ashore
Rich robes of price and of fair arms good store,
And gold and silver, that they there might buy
What yet they lacked for their solemnity;
Then, while upon the highest point of land

212

Some built an altar, Jason, with a band
Of all the chiefest of the Minyæ,
Turned inland from the murmur of the sea.

Not far they went ere by a little stream
Down in a valley they could see the gleam
Of brazen pillars and fair-gilded vanes,
And, dropping down by dank dark-wooded lanes
From off the hillside, reached a house at last
Where in and out men-slaves and women passed,
And guests were streaming fast into the hall,
Where now the oaken boards were laid for all.
With these the Minyæ went, and soon they were
Within a pillared hall both great and fair,
Where folk already sat beside the board,
And on the dais was an ancient lord.

But when these saw the fearless Minyæ
Glittering in arms, they sprang up hastily,
And each man turned about unto the wall
To seize his spear or staff: then through the hall
Jason cried out: “Laconians, fear ye not,
Nor leave the flesh-meat while it reeketh hot
For dread of us, for we are men as ye,
And I am Jason of the Minyæ,
And come from Æa to the land of Greece,
And in my ship bear back the Golden Fleece,
And a fair Colchian queen to fill my bed.
And now we pray to share your wine and bread,
And other things we need, and at our hands
That ye will take fair things of many lands.”

“Sirs,” said the ancient lord, “be welcome here,
Come up and sit by me, and make such cheer
As here ye can: glad am I that to me
The first of Grecian men from off the sea
Ye now are come.”

Therewith the great hall rang
With joyful shouts, and as, with clash and clang
Of well-wrought arms, up to the dais they went,
All eyes upon the Minyæ were bent,

213

Nor could they have enough of wondering
At this or that sea-tossed victorious king.

So with the strangers there they held high feast,
And afterwards the slaves drove many a beast
Down to the shore, and carried back again
Great store of precious things in pack and wain;
Wrought gold and silver, gems, full many a bale
Of scarlet cloth, and fine silk fit to veil
The perfect limbs of dreaded Goddesses;
Spices fresh-gathered from the outland trees,
And arms well-wrought, & precious scarce-known wine,
And carven images well-nigh divine.

So when all folk with these were satisfied,
Back went the Minyæ to the water-side,
And with them that old lord, fain to behold
Victorious Argo and the Fleece of Gold.
And so aboard amid the oars he lay
Throughout the night, and at the dawn of day
Did all men land, nor spared that day to wear
The best of all they had of gold-wrought gear,
And everyone, being crowned with olive grey,
Up to the headland did they take their way,
Where now already stood the crownèd priests
About the altars by the gilt-horned beasts.
There, as the fair sun rose, did Jason break
Over the altar the thin barley-cake,
And cast the salt abroad, and there were slain
The milk-white bulls, and there red wine did rain
On to the fire from out the ancient jar,
And high rose up the red flame, seen afar
From many another headland of that shore:
But over all its crackling and its roar
Uprose from time to time a joyous song,
That on the summer morning lay for long,
The mighty voices of the Minyæ
Exulting o'er the tossing conquered sea,
That far below thrust on by tide and wind
The crumbling bases of the headland mined.