On a tree-trunk, and took the bow for sorrow of mortals bent.
From the fruitful orchard of Zeus’s palace forth did he fare,
And thereafter came to Olympus’ portals high in air.
Thence is a sheer-descending path from the height of the sky; {160}
And there the Poles, twin mountains, uplift their heads on high,
Precipice-steeps, earth’s loftiest-towering crests, whereon
With his earliest rays at the dawning uplifted resteth the sun.
Far under, the life-sustaining earth and the cities slept
Of men, and the sacred rivers; anon before him upleapt
Hill-peaks, and outspread the sea, through the wide air on as he swept.