Here you will find the Poem Charon. of poet Robert Crawford
Who goes across those waters On which the Moon ne'er shone, With the passenger he came for As in a dream moved on? Cypress and yews o'ershadow The verge on either side, Within whose boughs for ever The winds of woe abide. And all the air is haunted With a wail that seems to flow From the living lips of Sorrow As the ages come and go. The boatman, dumb and hoary, Pulls with a steady pull, And the dead man seems to listen To voices beautiful. And it may be the weird River Has sights we cannot see, And the far shore burns its signals Of eerie mystery. And Charon knows each signal ? Above the River's rim The spectral lights that glimmer Are pilot-stars for him. Ay me! he knows the water As few, few boatmen know; 'Tis not the first he's taking Down where we all must go!
