Argive youths, that whole day long, Sang to appease the god; they chanted forth High anthems to the archer of the skies. He listened to the strain, and his stern mood Was softened. When, at length, the sun went down And darkness fell, they gave themselves to sleep Beside the fastenings of their ships, and when Appeared the rosy-fingered Dawn, the child Of Morning, they returned to the great host Of the Achaians. Phoebus deigned to send A favoring breeze; at once they reared the mast And opened the white sails; the canvas swelled Before the wind, and hoarsely round the keel The dark waves murmured as the ship flew on. So ran she, cutting through the sea her way. But when they reached the great Achaian host, They drew their vessel high upon the shore Among the sands, and underneath its sides They laid long beams to prop the keel, and straight Dispersed themselves among the tents and ships.