Timotheus' Charon,—him in the Niobe:)
I hear his voice this moment—"Hip! halloo!
To ship, to ship," he cries: the swarthy Destinies
(And who must not attend their solemn bidding?)
Unite their voices.—I were loth, howe'er,
To troop with less than all my gear about me;—
Good doctor, be my helper then to what
Remains of that same blessed Many-feet!—Mitchell.
Phœnix. (Book viii. § 59, p. 566.)