From yonder shore The keel of pine first floated, (28) and bore men To dare the perilous chance of seas unknown: And here Ionus ruler of the land First from the furnace molten masses drew Of iron and brass; here first the hammer fell To weld them, shapeless; here in glowing stream Ran silver forth and gold, soon to receive The minting stamp.

'Twas thus that money came Whereby men count their riches, cause accursed Of warfare.

Hence came down that Python huge On Cirrha: hence the laurel wreath which crowns The Pythian victor: here Aloeus' sons Gigantic rose against the gods, what time Pelion had almost touched the stars supreme, And Ossa's loftier peak amid the sky Opposing, barred the constellations' way.
When in this fated land the chiefs had placed Their several camps, foreboding of the end Now fast approaching, all men's thoughts were turned Upon the final issue of the war.
And as the hour drew near, the coward minds Trembling beneath the shadow of the fate Now hanging o'er them, deemed disaster near: While some took heart; yet doubted what might fall, In hope and fear alternate.

'Mid the throng Sextus, unworthy son of worthy sire Who soon upon the waves that Scylla guards, (29) Sicilian pirate, exile from his home, Stained by his deeds of shame the fights he won, Could bear delay no more; his feeble soul, Sick of uncertain fate, by fear compelled, Forecast the future: yet consulted not The shrine of Delos nor the Pythian caves; Nor was he satisfied to learn the sound Of Jove's brass cauldron, 'mid Dodona's oaks, By her primaeval fruits the nurse of men: Nor sought he sages who by flight of birds, Or watching with Assyrian care the stars And fires of heaven, or by victims slain, May know the fates to come; nor any source Lawful though secret.

For to him was known That which excites the hate of gods above; Magicians' lore, the savage creed of Dis And all the shades; and sad with gloomy rites Mysterious altars.