The hard sand breaks, and the grains of it are clear as wine. Far off over the leagues of it, the wind, playing on the wide shore, piles little ridges, and the great waves break over it. But more than the many-foamed ways of the sea, I know him of the triple path-ways, Hermes, who awaits. Dubious, facing three ways, welcoming wayfarers, he whom the...Read More
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