Classic Poem

THE CROSSING OF THE STYX

So they continue their journey begun, and draw nigh to the river.
Now as the Stygian ferryman looked from the wave, and perceived them
Threading the silent wood, and shoreward bending their footsteps,
Straightway attacking with words, he angrily challenged their coming: —
" Thou, whoever thou art, who bravest our stream with thy weapons,
Speak! Why comest thou? Halt! Reply, but advance at thy peril.
This is the region of shades, of sleep, and of slumberous midnight.
Living bodies to bear in our Stygian craft is forbidden.
When I received on the lake Alcides himself at his coming,
It was no joy to me; nor Pirithous pleased me, nor Theseus,
Though they were sprung from the gods and were also by mortals unvanquished.
That one seized with his hands the warder of Hell, and he dragged him
Forth from the very throne of the King, enchained and affrighted;
These attempted to force the Queen from the chamber of Pluto. "
Briefly to him replied the Amphrysian Sibyl as follows: —
" No such insidious plots are here — thy fear is ungrounded;
Nor do our arms bring force. Lo, still in his den your gigantic
Warder may bark his fill, and frighten pale shadows forever;
Still by her uncle's door may chaste Proserpina linger.
Trojan Æneas, renowned alike for his faith and his valour,
Through the profoundest shades of Erebus goes to his father.
If thou art not constrained by so noble a proof of devotion,
Yet this branch " — and she showed him the branch that lay hid in her bosom —
" Thou mayest know. " His heart then sinks from its tumult of passion;
Speaking no more, and awed by the mystical gift of the fateful
Branch not seen before for many a year, the dull coloured
Vessel he turned about, and pushed in close into the margin.
Then, the unbodied shades, that on the long benches were huddled,
Routing, he cleared the boat, at the same time into its hollow
Taking unwieldy Æneas, beneath whose weight the stitched shallop
Groaned, and its leaky sides drank deep of the trickling water.
Over the stream at last, unharmed, both Sibyl and hero
Deep in a dismal swamp, mid sea-green sedges he landed.