Book XIII

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The ocean god, however, resolved to make the attempt. From the wooded height of Samothrace he had been viewing the fight, and had seen that the Achaian army and fleet were threatened with destruction. Quickly, therefore, descending to the sea, he plunged down to his golden mansion beneath the waves, and there put on his armor and mounted his chariot.

He yoked his swift and brazen-footed steeds, With manes of flowing gold, to draw his car, And put on golden mail, and took his scourge, Wrought of fine gold, and climbed the chariot-seat, And rode upon the waves. The whales came forth From their deep haunts, and frolicked round his way: They knew their king. The waves rejoicing smoothed A path, and rapidly the coursers flew; Nor was the brazen axle wet below. And thus they brought him to the Greecian fleet.

BRYANT, _Iliad_,