"My greatest foemen from that day,
Ye led my dearest friends astray,—
As ye had fallen, man must fall.
To kill him evermore ye sought,
'They all shall die the death,' ye thought;
But how! for Me I've won them all.
For them alone did I descend,
For them prayed, suffered, perished I.
Ye ne'er shall gain your wicked end;
Who trust in Me shall never die.
"In endless chains here lie ye now,
Nothing can save you from the slough,
Not boldness, not regret for crime.
Lie, then, and writhe in brimstone fire!
'Twas ye yourselves drew down Mine ire.
Lie and lament throughout all time!
And also ye, whom I selected.
E'en ye for ever I disown.
For ye My saving grace rejected:
Ye murmur? blame yourselves alone!
"Ye might have lived with Me in bliss,
For I of yore had promised this;
Ye sinned, and all my prospects slighted;
Wrapped in the sleep of sin ye dwelt.
Now is My fearful judgment felt.
By a just doom your guilt requited."—
Thus spake He, and a fearful storm
From Him proceeds, the lightnings glow.
The thunders seize each wicked form.
And hurl them in a gulf below.
The God-man closeth Hell's sad doors;
In all His majesty He soars
From those dark regions back to light.
