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"WATER IS BEST!" cried the mighty, broad-breasted Poseidon; "O Cecrops, I offer to thee To ride on the back of the steeds foamy-crested That toss their wild manes on the huge-heaving sea. The globe thou shalt mete on the path of the waters, To thy ships shall the ports of far ocean be free; The isles of the sea shall be counted thy daughters, The pearls of the East shall be gathered for thee!"
Mutely the gods, with a calm consultation, Pondered the fountain and pondered the tree; And the heart of Poseidon, with high expectation, Throbbed till great Jove thus pronounced the decree: "Son of my father, thou mighty, broad-breasted Poseidon, the doom that I utter is true; Great is the might of thy waves foamy-crested When they beat the white walls of the screaming sea-mew; Great is the pride of the keel when it danceth, Laden with wealth, o'er the light-heaving wave When the East to the West, gayly floated, advanceth, With a word from the wise and a help from the brave.
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