Scylla

Riding through the air she comes
Lured with the smell of infant blood
To dance with Lapland witches while
The laboring moon eclipses at their charms

Fierce as ten furies
Terrible as Hell

Voluminous and vast
A serpent armed with mortal sting
Woman to the waist and fair
But ended foul in many a scaly fold

About her middle round: A hideous peal
A cry of Hell-hounds
With wide Cerberean mouths full loud
Bark and howl within unseen

The adversary of God and Man
With thoughts inflamed of highest design
Puts on wings and towards the gates of Hell
Explores a solitary flight