Not unwillingly They darted toward the plain, and left behind The lofty Pylos. All that day they shook The yoke on both their necks. The sun went down; The highways lay in darkness when they came To Pherae and the abode of Diocles, Son of Orsilochus, who claimed to be The offspring of Alpheius. They with him Found welcome there, and there that night they slept.
And when the rosy-fingered Morn appeared, They yoked the horses, climbed the shining car, And issued from the palace gate beneath The sounding portico. Peisistratus Wielded the lash to urge the coursers on, And not unwillingly they flew and reached A land of harvests. Here the travellers found Their journey’s end, so swiftly those fleet steeds Had borne them on. And now the sun went down, And darkness gathered over all the ways.