So at the beginning when the task seemed light and hands were strong. The breeze that had betrayed the Bozra ever sank lower. Presently it died altogether. The sails they set hung limp on the mast. The navarch had them furled. The sea spread out before them, a glassy, leaden-coloured floor; [pg 400]the waves roaring in their wake faded in a wide ripple far behind. To hearten his men the keleustes ceased his beating on the sounding-board, and clapped lips to his pipe. The whole trireme chorussed the familiar song together:—
“Fast and more fast
O’er the foam-spray we’re passed.
And our creaking sails swell
To the swift-breathing blast,
For Poseidon’s wild steeds
With their manifold feet,
Like a hundred white nymphs
On the blue sea-floor fleet.
And we wake as we go