Who dwelleth in Phrygia: on Tityas they cried, on Kyllênê withal,
Who alone be called the Dispensers of Doom—by the judgment-seat
Of the Mother Idaean who sit—by all that priesthood of Crete,
The Daktylians of Ida, born in the cave Dictaean of yore
When the Nymph Anchialê clutched in the throes of travail, and tore {1130}
With the fingers of either hand the earth by Oaxus’ shore.
Knelt Aison’s son to the Goddess, and prayed her with earnest cries
To turn the tempest away, on the flame of the sacrifice
As he poured the wine. And the youths therewithal at Orpheus’ command
Trode round her altar the measure, an armour-sheathèd band,