As an oft-trodden path through a grassy plain lieth clear in sight.
And all the Gods that day from the height of the heaven looked down
On the ship, and the might of the demigod heroes, the men of renown,
Sailing the sea; and afar on the crests of the hill-tops lone
The Maids of the Mountain, the Pelian Nymphs, in amaze looked on {550}
At the work of Athênê Itônis, the heroes’ goodly array,
As the ashen blades in their hands kept time with measured sway.
Yea, and there came one down from the mountain’s height to the shore,
Even Cheiron, Philyra’s son, and plashed the surf-wash hoar
On his feet, as his broad hand waving many a farewell sent,