Past the black realms of ancient Erebus,
Past too the torture cells of Tartarus,
Where cold-blue snakes, the Furies’ locks that tied,
By the trespassing strain, charmed, stupefied,
Drew in their fangs, Ixion’s wheel made pause,
And, one shocked wide gape, stood Cerberus’s triple jaws.
At last, at last! a Palace flaming high
With angry flashes from a mocking sky;
And, seated on twin thrones, the King and Queen,
Garbed in life-which-is-death’s Infernal sheen;