Love the victorious; and answering speech to his lips hath leapt:
‘Yea, verily, never by night, I ween, and by day nevermore
Shalt thou be forgotten of me, if unto Achaia’s shore
Unscathed I shall ’scape indeed, and Aiêtes before me set, {1080}
For mine hands to achieve, none other toil more desperate yet.
But if this hath pleased thee, to learn what land I call mine own,
I will tell thee—yea, and mine own heart biddeth me make it known
A country there is—steep mountain-ramparts around it run—
A land of streams and of pastures, wherein Iapetus’ son,
Even Prometheus, begat the valiant Deukalion,