The Ferryman

Portitor has horrendus aquas et flumina servat 
 Terribili squalore Charon, cui plurima mento 
 Canities inculta jacet, stant lumina flamma, 
 Sordidus ex umeris nodo dependet amictus 
 Ibant obscuri sola sub nocte per umbram 
 Perque domos Ditis vacuas et inania regna 
 Quale per incertam lunam sub luce maligna 
 Est eiter in silvis, ubi caelum condidit umbra 
 Juppiter, et rebus nox abstulit atra colorem 
 "Sic demum lucos Stygis et regna invia vivis aspicies..." 
 "Anchisa generate deum certissimia proles, 
 Cocyti stagna alta vides Stygiamque paludem. 
 Di cujus jurare timent et fallere numen." 
 Nec plura his. Ille admirans venerabile donum 
 Fatalis virgae longo post tempore visum 
 Caeruleam advertit puppim ripaeque propinquat. 
 Watching over these waves and streams of filth is the 
 Horrible ferryman Charon, on whose chin countless unkept 
 Grey hairs lie outspread; his eyes endure in flame, and 
 A squalid cloak hangs knotted from his shoulders. 
 Beneath lonely darkness the gloomy travellers go through shadow 
 And through the deserted abodes and ghostly kingdom of Dis: 
 Through uncertain moonlight under rays of a spiteful sort the way 
 Lies in the woods, where Jupiter hides the sky in shadow and 
 Night steals colour from the black heavens. 
 "In this manner you will at last behold the sacred grove of Styx 
 And the kingdom pathless to the living..." 
 "Child of Anchises, most certain prodigy of a god, you will see 
 The deep mere of the mournful river of Hades and the swamp of 
 Styx, whose divine power the gods fear to swear by and prove false." 
 Nothing more was said. Wondering at the venerable offering of the 
 Fated branch, seen after a distant time, he turned the vessel to 
 The darkness and the shores approached.