11
VII.
But now the Charon of the nether stream oWaves his light oar, and wafts us o'er the tide.With staggering step we scale the rugged side,Fast by yon lofty ridge; o'er whose broad beamWith stealthy lapse at first the glassy plane pIn one bright sheet descends, then streaming allWith tresses green, that whiten as they fall,Dash'd to ten thousand dews and dusts of rain,Breaks on the crags beneath, its rugged floor,The ruins of its rage; through whose hoarse cavesAnd countless crannies forced the foaming waves,'Scaped their Tarpeian pitch,q with fresh uproar Rush headlong down, and deeper as they swell The mixt majestic choir, that shakes that wondrous dell.
