So raise up the mast, and set the sail, and face what comes like men.' Then out spoke the magic bough, 'Ah, would that I had perished long ago, and been whelmed by the dread blue rocks, beneath the fierce swell of the Euxine! Better so, than to wander for ever, disgraced by the guilt of my princes; for the blood of Absyrtus still tracks me, and woe follows hard upon woe.

And now some dark horror will clutch me, if I come near the Isle of Ierne.

{132} Unless you will cling to the land, and sail southward and southward for ever, I shall wander beyond the Atlantic, to the ocean which has no shore.' Then they blest the magic bough, and sailed southward along the land.
But ere they could pass Ierne, the land of mists and storms, the wild wind came down, dark and roaring, and caught the sail, and strained the ropes.

And away they drove twelve nights, on the wide wild western sea, through the foam, and over the rollers, while they saw neither sun nor stars.

And they cried again, 'We shall perish, for we know not where we are.