But now what should we do, held back by the winds to stay here, if ever so short a time?
How desolate looms before us the edge of the limitless land!" (ll.

1259-1276) Thus one spake; and among them Ancaeus the helmsman, in despair at their evil case, spoke with grieving heart: "Verily we are undone by a terrible doom; there is no escape from ruin; we must suffer the cruellest woes, having fallen on this desolation, even though breezes should blow from the land; for, as I gaze far around, on every side do I behold a sea of shoals, and masses of water, fretted line upon line, run over the hoary sand.

And miserably long ago would our sacred ship have been shattered far from the shore; but the tide itself bore her high on to the land from the deep sea.

But now the tide rushes back to the sea, and only the foam, whereon no ship can sail, rolls round us, just covering the land.

Wherefore I deem that all hope of our voyage and of our return is cut off.