 | The lion's cub |  |
THE CAPTIVES OF CHARON.
(Romaic.)
Along the gloomy hills,
Where the winds of winter blow,
I see the awful shadow
Of Charon come and go.
Where the winds of winter blow,
I see the awful shadow
Of Charon come and go.
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Before him he drives the young,
Behind he drags the old,
And, seated on his saddle,
The children he doth hold.
Behind he drags the old,
And, seated on his saddle,
The children he doth hold.
The old men come and pray,
Their hands the young men wring,
“O halt beside some village,
Beside some flowing spring!
Their hands the young men wring,
“O halt beside some village,
Beside some flowing spring!
That the old may quench their thirst,
The young the discus throw,
And the children gather flowers
That on the margin grow.”
The young the discus throw,
And the children gather flowers
That on the margin grow.”
But Charon shakes his head,
And hurries on the way;
“I halt beside no village,
And by no spring I stay.
And hurries on the way;
“I halt beside no village,
And by no spring I stay.
For mothers coming there
Would know the babes they bore,
And their late-lost wives the husbands—
And none could part them more.”
Would know the babes they bore,
And their late-lost wives the husbands—
And none could part them more.”
So Charon over the hills,
With swift and silent tread,
Upon his black horse mounted
Compels the Captive Dead!
With swift and silent tread,
Upon his black horse mounted
Compels the Captive Dead!
| The lion's cub | |