“Grineus was near, and cast a furious look On the side altar, censed with sacred smoke, And bright with flaming fires: ‘The gods,’ he cried, ‘Have with their holy trade our hands supplied: Why use we not their gifts?’ Then from the floor An altar stone he heaved, with all the load it bore: Altar, and altar’s freight, together flew, Where thickest throng’d the Lapithaean crew, And at once Broteas and Oryus slew. Oryus’ mother, Mycale, was known Down from her sphere to draw the labouring moon.