And the land exceeding rich of the Mariandynian men,
The streams of Lykus, the mere of Anthemoïsia—these
They sighted, and ran thereby, and ever the sheets in the breeze
Quivered, and all the tackling, as onward they sped their flight.
But at dawn—forasmuch as the wind had fallen asleep in the night—
Gladly the haven they won of the Acherusian Head.
Upward it soareth to heaven with cliffs no foot may tread,
Fronting the sea Bithynian; below it the craggy rocks {730}
Ever lashed by the brine stand rooted: around them with thunder-shocks
Ever crashes the wallowing surge; and above the turmoil on high