black headland, and near it the mouth of the river Phyllis, where
aforetime Dipsacus received in his home the son of Athamas, when with
his ram he was flying from the city of Orchomenus; and Dipsacus was the
son of a meadow-nymph, nor was insolence his delight, but contented by
his father's stream he dwelt with his mother, pasturing his flocks by
the shore. And quickly they sighted and sailed past his shrine and the
broad banks of the river and the plain, and deep-flowing Calpe, and all
the windless night and the day they bent to their tireless oars. And
even as ploughing oxen toil as they cleave the moist earth, and sweat
streams in abundance from flank and neck; and from beneath the yoke
their eyes roll askance, while the breath ever rushes from their mouths
in hot gasps; and all day long they toil, planting their hoofs deep in
the ground; like them the heroes kept dragging their oars through the
sea.

Now when divine light has not yet come nor is it utter darkness, but a
faint glimmer has spread over the night, the time when men wake and call
it twilight, at that hour they ran into the harbour of the desert island
Thynias and, spent by weary toil, mounted the shore. And to them the son
of Leto, as he passed from Lycia far away to the countless folk of the
Hyperboreans, appeared; and about his cheeks on both sides his golden
locks flowed in clusters as he moved; in his left hand he held a silver
bow, and on his back was slung a quiver hanging from his shoulders; and
beneath his feet all the island quaked, and the waves surged high on the
beach. Helpless amazement seized them as they looked; and no one dared
to gaze face to face into the fair eyes of the god. And they stood with
heads bowed to the ground; but he, far off, passed on to the sea through
the air; and at length Orpheus spake as follows, addressing the chiefs:

"Come, let us call this island the sacred isle of Apollo of the Dawn