Prayer to the Gods of the Underworld

Ye awful goddesses, avenging power
Of Tartaros upon the damned,
and Chaos huge who striv’st to mix innumerable worlds,
And Pluto, king of earth, whose weary soul grieves at his godhead;
Styx; and plains of bliss we may not enter:
and thou, Proserpine,
Hating thy mother and the skies above,
My patron goddess, last and lowest form
Of Hecate through whom the shades and I
Hold silent converse; warder of the gate
Who castest human offal to the dog:
Ye sisters who shall spin the threads again;
And thou, O boatman of the burning wave,
Now wearied of the shades from hell to me
Returning, hear me if with voice
I cry