A Journey to Hell or, A Visit paid to the Devil. A poem. The Second Edition [by Edward Ward] |
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 | A Journey to Hell |  |
The Judge returning, ended the Dispute,
And with his awful Presence struck 'em Mute;
As wrangling Mob, together by the Ears,
Grow silent when the Constable appears.
Down in great Pomp the grave Assembly sits,
The Lamps grew dim, the Cryer call'd fresh Lights.
Then Pluto's Orator his Papers spread,
And to the Court this short Oration made:
My Lord—
Within the Circle of a solar Year,
Such numbers of these Criminals appear
At this last Bar of Justice, that there needs
But short recital of their sinful Deeds;
A long Exordium therefore I'll forbear,
And just remind your Lordship what they are.
And with his awful Presence struck 'em Mute;
As wrangling Mob, together by the Ears,
Grow silent when the Constable appears.
Down in great Pomp the grave Assembly sits,
The Lamps grew dim, the Cryer call'd fresh Lights.
Then Pluto's Orator his Papers spread,
And to the Court this short Oration made:
My Lord—
Within the Circle of a solar Year,
Such numbers of these Criminals appear
At this last Bar of Justice, that there needs
But short recital of their sinful Deeds;
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And just remind your Lordship what they are.
| A Journey to Hell | |