Now beneath the beaming moon, Cytherean Venus leads forth the band.
The Cytherean babes had set their torches to that flotilla, and it had blazed like match-wood.
The Cytherean spoke, and sought her son's embrace, and laid the armour glittering under an oak over against him.
The Cytherean gave ready assent to her request, and laughed at the wily invention.
Pallas Athene taught them by word of mouth, and the Cytherean was their rosy, warm, unfailing friend.
