And thy bark that plies the infernal stream
With oars all motionless came on.
Then first the hoary Phrygian1075
Forgot his thirst, although no more
The mocking waters fled his lips
But stood enchanted; now no more
He reaches hungry hands to grasp
The luscious fruit.
When thus through that dark world of souls
Sweet Orpheus poured such heavenly strains1080