echoes with the din. These think it shame to lose the
glory that they have won, the prize that is already their
own, and would fain barter life for renown; these are feeding
on success, they feel strong because they feel that they
are thought[188] strong. And perhaps their beaks would have
been even and the prize divided, had not Cloanthus,
stretching out both hands over the deep, breathed a
prayer and called the gods to hear his vow:—“Powers 5
whose is the rule of ocean, whose waters I ride, for you with
glad heart will I lead to your altars on this shore a snow-white