For when th'impenitent and wicked die,
Loaded with crimes and infamy,
If any sense at that sad time remains,
They feel amazing terrors, mighty pains,
The earnest of that vast stupendous woe
Which they to all eternity must undergo,
Confin'd in hell with everlasting chains.
Infernal spirits hover in the air,

Like rav'nous wolves, to seize upon the prey,
And hurry the departed souls away

To the dark receptacles of despair,
Where they must dwell till that tremendous day
When the loud trump shall call them to appear
Before a Judge most terrible and most severe,
By whose just sentence they must go

To everlasting pains and endless woe.

IX.

But the good man, whose soul is pure,

Unspotted, regular, and free

From all the ugly stains of lust and villany,

Of mercy and of pardon sure,

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Looks thro' the darkness of the gloomy night, 180
And sees the dawning of a glorious day;
Sees crowds of angels ready to convey
His soul, whene'er she takes her flight,
To the surprising mansions of immortal light:
Then the celestial guards around him stand,
Nor suffer the black demons of the air
T'oppose his passage to the promis'd land,

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Or terrify his thoughts with wild despair, But all is calm within, and all without is fair. His pray'rs, his charity, his virtues, press To plead for mercy when he wants it most ; Not one of all the happy number's lost, And those bright advocates ne'er want success : But when the soul's releas'd from dull mortality, She passes up in triumph thro' the sky, Where she's united to a glorious throng Of angels, who, with a celestial song, Congratulate her conquest as she flies along.

X.

If, therefore, all must quit the stage,
When or how soon we cannot know,
But late or early we are sure to go,

In the fresh bloom of youth or wither'd age,
We cannot take too sedulous a care
In this important grand affair,
For as we die we must remain ;
Hereafter all our hopes are vain,

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To make our peace with Heav'n, or to return again.
The Heathen who no better understood

Than what the light of Nature taught, declar'd
No future misery could be prepar'd

For the sincere, the merciful, the good;
But if there was a state of rest,

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They should with the same happiness be blest
As the immortal gods, if gods there were, possest.

We have the promise of eternal Truth,

Those who live well, and pious paths pursue,

To man and to their Maker true,

Let 'em expire in age or youth,

Can never miss

Their way to everlasting bliss
But from a world of misery and care
To mansions of eternal ease repair,
Where joy in full perfection flows,
And in an endless circle move
Thro' the vast round of beatific love,
Which no cessation knows.

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Esse quoque in fatis, reminiscitur, affore tempus
Quo mare, quo tellus, correptaque regia coeli
Ardeat, et mundi moles operosa laboret

I.

OVID. MET.

Now the black days of universal doom,
Which wondrous prophesies foretold, are come :
What strong convulsions, what stupendous woe,
Must sinking Nature undergo,

Amidst the dreadful wreck and final overthrow! 5
Methinks I hear her, conscious of her fate,
With fearful groans and hideous cries

Fill the presaging skies,

Unable to support the weight

Or of the present or approaching miseries.
Methinks I hear her summon all

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Her guilty offspring, raving with despair,
And trembling, cry aloud, "Prepare,

"Ye sublunary Pow'rs! t'attend my funeral."

II.

See! see the tragical portents,

Those dismal harbingers of dire events,

Loud thunders roar, and darting lightnings fly
Thro' the dark concave of the troubled sky;
The fiery ravage is begun, the end is nigh.

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See how the glaring meteors blaze!

Like baleful torches, O, they come,

To light dissolving Nature to her tomb!
And, scatt'ring round their pestilential rays,
Strike the affrighted nations with a wild amaze.
Vast sheets of flame and globes of fire,
By an impetuous wind, are driven

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Thro' all th' regions of th' inferior heav'n,
Till hid in sulph'rous smoke they seemingly expire.

III.

Sad and amazing 'tis to see

What mad confusion rages over all
This scorching ball!

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No country is exempt, no nation free,
But each partakes the epidemic misery.

What dismal havoc of mankind is made
By wars, and pestilence, and dearth,
Thro' the whole mournful earth,

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Which with a murd'ring fury they invade,

Forsook by Providence and all propitious aid!
Whilst fiends let loose, their utmost rage employ

To ruin all things here below

Their malice and revenge no limits know,

But in the universal tumult all destroy.

IV.

Distracted mortals from their cities fly

For safety to their champaign ground;

But there no safety can be found;
The vengeance of an angry Deity,

With unrelenting fury, does inclose them round :

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