Forth of the lifeless lips would break the utterance
Of speech—ay, long wouldst thou gaze in expectation’s trance.
Such was the gift of Athênê, the Goddess Itonian’s toil.
And a lance far-leaping he grasped in his right hand, given erewhile
Of the maid Atalanta on Mainalus’ height for the pledge of a friend. {770}
Gladly she met him, for sorely her soul desired to wend
On the Quest: howbeit the hero himself withheld the maid,
For the peril of bitter strife for her love’s sake made him afraid.
So he hied him to go to the town, as the radiant star to behold
Which a maid, as she draweth her newly-woven curtain’s fold,