But the student must at his leisure explore the marvels of these rock-pools left by the retiring ocean. One majestic passage[821] from the Cretans shall suffice to close this survey. The lines are from a march sung by the Curetes or priests of the Cretan Zeus, and show that even in the Hellenic world the monastic spirit was not unknown:—
Thou whom the Tyrian princess bare
To mighty Jove, thou Lord of Crete,
To whom her hundred cities bow,
Lo, I draw near thy judgment-seat,
Quitting my home, yon hallowed place
Where beams of cypress roof the shrine,
By far-brought axes lopped and hewn,
Close knit by oxen’s blood divine.
Pure is my life’s unbroken calm