Classic Poem

A METEOR -bearing bark before me made
For Tweed's wide current from a wooded bay
And under midnight's cover, on its way
Cautiously glided. In its moving shade,
On either side the oar's infrequent blade
Dipped flagging, like the heron's wing — pursued
At every touch by fiery snakes, that play'd
Around the vessel's track. A figure stood
Upon the prow with tall and threat'ning spear,
Which suddenly into the stream he smote.
Methought of Charon and his gloomy boat —
Of the torch'd Furies and of Pluto drear
Burning the Stygian tide for lamprey vile,
That on his bride's dimm'd face, Hell might behold a smile.