Ankaius the helmsman spake with anguish-darkened face: {1260}
‘Yea verily, ghastliest doom hath undone us. Escape there is not
From destruction: for us but remaineth to suffer the cruellest lot,
Which have fallen on this desolation; yea, even though a breath there should be
Of air from the land, forasmuch as nought save shoals do I see,
Afar as I gaze o’er the waters around; and scantly the brine
Overscaleth the hoary sands in foam-fretted line upon line.
Yea, and our god-built ship had to shards been wretchedly torn
Long since far off from the shore, but that out of the sea was it borne
By the flood-tide’s self uplifted, and high on the land was it thrown.