He spake, and to his chariot yoked the steeds, Fleet, brazen-footed, and with flowing manes Of gold, and put his golden armor on, And took the golden scourge, divinely wrought, And, mounting, touched the coursers with the lash To urge them onward. Not unwillingly Flew they between the earth and starry heaven, Until he came to Ida, moist with springs And nurse of savage beasts, and to the height Of Gargarus, where lay his sacred field, And where his fragrant altar fumed. He checked Their course, and there the Father of the gods And men released them from the yoke and caused A cloud to gather round them. Then he sat, Exulting in the fullness of his might, Upon the summit, whence his eye beheld The towers of Ilium and the ships of Greece.