On the earth in the selfsame place, and his endless coils through the shade {160}
Of the myriad stems of the forest stretching afar were unrolled.
Then from the oak-tree the hero snatched the Fleece of Gold
At the maiden’s bidding. Unswerving all the while she stayed
And smeared on the head of the monster her unguent, till Jason bade,
Till himself said, ‘Turn we again, and fare to the galley aback.’
Then left she the War-god’s grove, where the vast shades brooded black.
And even as a maiden may catch on her vesture of delicate thread
The light of the mid-month’s moon, when she saileth the heavens overhead
Her high-roofed bridal bower, and her heart in her breast is aglow