went bosoming deep at the shoulder like the sail of a ship, and made that fair burden light indeed.
When she was now far come from the land of her fathers, and could see neither wave-beat shore nor mountain-top, but only sky above and sea without end below, she gazed about her and lift up her voice saying: “Whither away with me, thou god-like bull? And who art thou, and how come undaunted where is so ill going for shambling oxen? Troth, ’tis for the speeding ship to course o’ the sea, and bulls do shun the paths of the brine. What water is here thou canst drink? What food shalt thou get thee of the sea? Nay, ’tis plain thou art a God; only a God would do as thou doest. For bulls go no more on the sea than the dolphins of the wave on the land; but as for you, land and sea is all one for your travelling, your hooves are oars to you. It may well be you will soar above the the gray mists and fly like a bird on the wing. Alas and well-a-day that I left my home and followed this ox to go so strange a seafaring and so lonesome! Ο be kind good Lord of the boar sea—for methinks I see thee yonder piloting me on this way—, great Earth-Shaker, be kind and come hither to help me; for sure there’s a divinity in this my journey upon the ways of the waters.”
So far the maid, when the hornèd ox upspake and said: “Be of good cheer, sweet virgin, and never thou fear the billows. ’Tis Zeus himself that speaketh, though to the sight he seem a bull; for I can put on what semblance soever I will. And ’tis love of
