The flame seized not upon the funeral pile Of the dead chief. Pelides, swift of foot, Bethought him of another rite. He stood Apart, and offered vows to the two winds, Boreas and Zephyr. Promising to bring Fair offerings to their shrines, and pouring out Libations from a golden cup, he prayed That they would haste and wrap the pile in flames, And burn the dead to ashes. At his prayer Fleet Iris on a message to the Winds Took instant wing. They sat within the halls Of murmuring Zephyr, at a solemn feast. There Iris lighted on the threshold-stone. As soon as they beheld her, each arose And bade her sit beside him. She refused To seat her at the banquet, and replied:⁠—