Sisyphus

(Sis′yphus), son of Aeolus and Enaretta. He was condemned to roll a stone to the top of a hill in the infernal regions, and as it rolled down again when he reached the summit, his punishment was perpetual. “I turned my eye, and as I turned, surveyed A mournful vision! The Sisyphian shade. With many a weary step and many a groan, Up the high hill he leaves a huge round stone, The huge round stone, resulting with a bound Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground.” Pope. “Thy stone, O Sisyphus, stands still Ixion rests upon his wheel, And the pale specters dance.” F. Lewis.