Clutched at them, smote at them, missed but by sword-point or finger-tip.
Yea, even despite Heaven’s will had they rent them limb from limb,
Overtaking them far away where the Floating Islands swim,—
But Iris the Storm-foot beheld them, and downward she plunged from the sky
Through a whirlwind of air, and with words of restraining aloud did she cry:
‘Sons of the North-wind, forefended it is that ye smite with the sword
The Harpies, great Zeus’s hounds; but myself will pronounce the word
Of the oath that shall hold them from lighting again on the ancient’s board.’ {290}
Then spake she the words of the Oath of the Styx, the oath most dread
Unto all the Gods, whose reverence guardeth the words once said,