On the course of that chariot and those horses.A boy could not hope to control...

On the course of that chariot and those horses.
A boy could not hope to control them.
You are my son, but mortal. No mortal
Could hope to manage those reins.
Not even the gods are allowed to touch them. ... 'Our first stretch is almost vertical.
Fresh as they are, first thing,
It is all the horses can do to get up it.
Then on to mid-heaven. Terrifying
To look down through nothing
At earth and sea, so tiny.
My heart nearly struggles out of my body
As the chariot sways.
Then the plunge towards evening - There you need strength on the reins. Tethys, 'Who waits to receive me
Into her waters, is always afraid
I shall topple -
And come tumbling
Head over heels in a tangled mass. 'Remember, too,
That the whole sky is revolving
With its constellations, its planets.
I have to force my course against that - Not to be swept backwards as all else is. 'What will you do,
Your feet braced at the chariot, the reins in your hands,
When you have to counter the pull
Of the whistling Poles? When the momentum
Of the whole reeling cosmos hauls you off sideways?