Hence loathed Melancholy
Of Cerberus, and blackest midnight born
In Stygian cave forlorn
'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights unholy
Find out some uncouth cell
Where brooding darkness spreads his jealous wings
And the night-raven sings;
There under ebon shades, and low-brow’d rocks
As ragged as thy locks
In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell