Tingling with strength, as waxed their sinews with gathering might.
And even as when a battle-steed afire for the fight
Leapeth and neigheth and paweth the ground, and glorying rears
His neck like a stormy-crested billow, and pricketh his ears, {1260}
Even so in the pride of his prowess triumphant was Aison’s son,
And hither and thither on high he bounded now and anon,
In his hands uptossing his brazen shield and his spear’s tough ash.
Thou hadst said that adown through the murky welkin the leaping flash
Of the tempest-levin was gleaming and flickering once and again
From the clouds that are bringing hard after their burden of blackest rain.