Stood over mine head full nigh, and they drew my mantle’s fold {1350}
Away from mine head with fingers light, and they bade me arise
From my couch of despair, bade rouse you up in the selfsame wise.
And they bade us to render our mother the nursing-debt again—
Seeing that long in her womb she bare us with travail-pain—
Whensoever the steeds of the swift-wheeled car of the Lord of the Sea
Amphitritê should loose from the yoke. Howbeit it is not in me
To divine what their prophecy meaneth. They named them, that stranger-band,
Heroines, daughters of Libya, and Warders of the Land.
Yea, whatsoever toils we endured in our journeying