est procul ad Stygiae devexa silentia noctis Cimmerium domus et superis incognita tellus, caeruleo tenebrosa situ, quo flammea numquam Sol iuga sidereos nec mittit Iuppiter annos. stant tacitae frondes inmotaque silva comanti horret Averna iugo; specus umbrarumque meatus subter et Oceani praeceps fragor arvaque nigro vasta metu et subitae post longa silentia voces (iii. 398). Far hence by the deep sunken silence of the Stygian night lies the Cimmerians' home, a land unknown to denizens of upper air, all dark with gloomy squalor. Thither the sun hath never driven his flaming car nor Jupiter sent forth his starry seasons. Silent are the leaves of its groves, and all along its leafy hill bristles unmoved Avernus' wood: thereunder are caverns, and the shades go to and fro; there Ocean plunges roaring to its fall, there are plains with dark fear desolate, and after long silences sudden voices thunder out. It is a more theatrical underworld than that of Vergil, and the picture is not clearly conceived, but its very vagueness is impressive. The poet gives us, as it were, the scene for the enactment of some dim dream of terror. He is equally at home in describing the happy calm of Elysium. Though the picture lacks originality, it has no lack of beauty: hic geminae infernum portae, quarum altera dura semper lege patens populos regesque receptat; ast aliam temptare nefas et tendere contra; rara et sponte patet, siquando pectore ductor volnera nota gerens, galeis praefixa rotisque cui domus aut studium mortales pellere curas, culta fides, longe metus atque ignota cupido; seu venit in vittis castaque in veste sacerdos. quos omnes lenis plantis et lampada quassans progenies Atlantis agit. lucet via late igne dei, donec silvas et amoena piorum deveniant camposque, ubi sol totumque per annum durat aprica dies thiasique chorique virorum carminaque et quorum populis iam nulla cupido (i. 833).