Where tender love mens hearts did move unto a sympathy,
And bearing part of others smart in their anxiety;
Now such compassion is out of fashion, and wholly laid aside:
No Friends so near, but Saints to hear their Sentence can abide.
One natural Brother beholds another in his astonied fit,
Yet sorrows not thereat a jot, nor pities him a whit.
The godly wife conceives no grief, nor can she shed a tear
For the sad state of her dear Mate, when she his doom doth hear.
He that was erst a Husband pierc't with sense of Wives distress,
Whose tender heart did bear a part of all her grievances,
Shalt mourn no more as heretofore because of her ill plight;
Although he see her now to be a damn'd forsaken wight.
The tender Mother will own no other of all her numerous brood,
But such as stand at Christ's right hand acquitted through his Blood.
The pious father had now much rather his graceless son should ly
In Hell with Devils, for all his evils, burning eternally.
Then God most high should injury, by sparing him sustain;
And doth rejoice to hear Christ's voice adjudging him to pain.
Who having all both great and small, convinc'd and silenced,
Did then proceed their Doom to read, and thus it uttered.
Ye sinful wights, and cursed sprights, that work iniquity,
Depart together from me for ever to endless Misery;
Your portion take in yonder Lake, where Fire and Brimstone flameth:
Suffer the smart, which your desert as it's due wages claimeth.
Oh piercing words more sharp than swords! what, to depart from thee,
Whose face before for evermore the best of Pleasures be!
What? to depart'(unto our smart) from thee Eternally:
To be for aye banish'd away, with Devils company!
What? to be sent to Punishment, and flames of Burning Fire,
To be surrounded, and eke confounded with Gods Revengeful ire!
What? to abide, not for a tide these Torments, but for Ever:
To be released, or to be eased, not after years, but Never.
Oh fearful Doom! now there's no room for hope of help at all:
Sentence is past which aye shall last, Christ will not it recall.
There might you hear them rent and tear the Air with their out-cries :
The hideous noise of their sad voice ascendeth to the Skies.
They wring their hands, their caitiff-hands, and gnash their teeth for terrour;
They cry, they roar for anguish sore, and gnaw their tongues for horrour.
But get away without delay, Christ pities not your cry:
Depart to Hell, there may you yell, and roar Eternally.
That word, Depart, maugre their heart, drives every wicked one,
With mighty pow'r, the self-same hour, ' far from the Judge's Throne.
Away they're chast'd by the strong blast of his Death-threatning mouth:
They flee full fast, as if in haste, although they be full loath.
As chaff that's dry, and dust doth fly before the Northern wind:
Right so are they chased away, and can no Refuge find.
They hasten to the Pit of Woe, guarded by Angels stout;
Who to fulfil Christ's holy will, attend this wicked Rout.
Whom having brought as they are taught, unto the brink of Hell,
(That dismal place far from Christ' face, where Death and Darkness dwell:
Where God's fierce Ire kindleth the fire, and vengeance feeds the flame
With piles of Wood and Brimstone Flood. that none can quench the same.)
With iron bands they bind their hands, and cursed feet together,
And cast them all both great and small, into the Lake for ever,
Where day and night, without respite, they wail, and cry, and howl
For tort'ring pain which, they sustain in body and in Soul.
For day and night, in their despight, their torments smoak ascendeth.
Their pain and grief have no relief, their anguish never endeth.
There must they ly, and never dy, though dying every day:
There must they dying ever ly, and not consume away.
Dy fain they would, if dy they could, but death will not be had.
God's direful wrath their bodies hath for ev'r Immortal made.
They live to ly in misery, and bear eternal wo;
And live they must whilst God is just, that he may plague them so.
But who can tell the plagues of Hell, and torments exquisite?
Who can relate their dismal state, and terrours infinite?
Who fare the best, and feel the least, yet feel that punishment
Whereby to nought they should be brought, if God did not prevent.
The least degree of misery there felt's incomparable,
The lightest pain they there sustain more than intolerable.
Hut God's great pow'r from hour to hour upholds them in the fire,
That they shall not consume a jot, nor by it's force expire.
