Beyond it was stygian darkness.
"The Whispering Spheres" by Russell Robert Winterbotham
Shalt thou without burial behold the Stygian waters and the awful river of the Furies?
"The Aeneid of Virgil" by Virgil
There was nothing at all to be seen in this direction save water and rock, that faded away into Stygian darkness beyond.
"As It Was in the Beginning" by Philip Verrill Mighels
The moon was just rising above the horizon, but under the trees the darkness was Stygian.
"The Hill" by Horace Annesley Vachell
But what do they with eyes in these Stygian waters?
"Natural Law in the Spiritual World" by Henry Drummond
It might well be imagined she was really of Stygian origin.
"The World's Greatest Books, Volume 19" by Various
Stygian darkness reigned beyond.
"Owen Clancy's Happy Trail" by Burt L. Standish
The Stygian darkness of his hiatus refused to lift by questioning.
"Desert Conquest" by A. M. Chisholm
It was not the sort of night we know on earth, but a Stygian blackness.
"The Fire People" by Ray Cummings
The streets were plunged in almost Stygian darkness.
"The Submarine Hunters" by Percy F. Westerman
Oh come, Eurydice!
The Stygian deeps are past
Well-nigh; the light dawns fast.
Oh come, Eurydice!
"Eurydice" by Sophie Margaret Hensley
If the mournful Rover, Death,
Say but once-resign your breath-
Vainly of escape you dream,
You must pass the Stygian stream.
"On The Death Of The Vice-Chancellor, A Physician (Translated From Milton)" by William Cowper
Of lowly birth, once shed of earth,
Your Horace, precious (so you've told him),
Shall soar away; no tomb of clay
Nor Stygian prison-house shall hold him.
"The Poet's Metamorphosis" by Eugene Field
Say, canst thou lull upon thy Stygian breast
The fiend Despair, than all the fiends more dire,
With quiv'ring lips and eye-balls set in fire,
Canst thou so wild a demon sooth to rest?
"To Oblivion" by Charlotte Dacre
No! my Maecenas, who wast ever just,
A witness to my worth,
By whom I'm counted as a friend,
Despite my humble birth;
I shall not lie forgotten in the grave,
Or pine encircled by the Stygian wave.
"From Horace: Book II:Ode II" by Peter John Allan
Are there in truth Elysian Fields?
And is there life beyond the grave?
Or are the years that Nature yields
Confined this side the Stygian wave?
For those who more existence crave
Is there a Power to help and save?
"On The Palentine" by John Lawson Stoddard