Already the clangor of arms thrills my ears, and rings loudly:

Thou, Lybian Nile, I can see now thy barriers groaning

And Actium's gulf and Apollo's darts quailing the warriors!

Then, open thy thirsty dominions and summon fresh spirits;

For scarce will the ferryman's strength be sufficient to carry

The souls of the dead in his skiff: 'tis a fleet that is needed!

Thou, Pallid Tisiphone, slake with wide ruin, thy thirsting

And tear ghastly wounds: mangled earth sinks to hell and the
spirits.'"




CHAPTER THE ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-SECOND.

"But scarce had she finished, when trembled the clouds; and a
gleaming

Bright flash of Jove's lightning transfixed them with flame and was
gone.

The Lord of the Shades blanched with fear, at this bolt of his