Classic Poem

'T IS fenced all round with fears, like triple brass:
Rocks of despair stand round it: Seas of woe
Shut out that region from the sunny world;
And diabolic Ghosts, (whose care it is,
And penalty, to keep that silent land
Untroubled until Doom,) like ghastly giants,
Stand armed beside rebellious bones, and scare
The restless back to slumber.