To visit Hell—and I too count from Jove!”
“Easy,” replied the Sibyl, “the descent
To Avernus; welcome all thither bent;
Dis shuts none out; the task is, when the taste
For sunshine revives, measure back the waste
Wooded wilderness that Cocytus holds
In its innumerable black-slime folds.
What hope for mortals flesh-clogged to retrace
Their way! A few by Jupiter’s good grace,
Or saints on earth, with blood Divine to aid,