His mighty club no longer beat
The forehead of the bull; but he
Reeled as of yore beside the sea,
When blinded by Œnopion
He sought the blacksmith at his forge,
And climbing up the narrow gorge,
Fixed his blank eyes upon the sun.”
Tennyson has a different theory of the Pleiads:
“Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising through the mellow shade,
Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid.”