A mighty tree, that bears a golden bough. - Christopher Pitt

Now on a towering arch of waves we rise,
Heaved on the bounding billows, to the skies.
Then, as the roaring surge retreating fell,
We shoot down headlong to the depths of hell.

I proved unfaithful to my former spouse,
And now I reap the fruits of broken vows!

Smooth lies the road to Pluto's gloomy shade, And hell's black gates for ever stand displayed, But 'tis a long unconquerable pain, To climb to these ethereal realms again.