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 |  |
Ye restless Souls that plagu'd your native Land,
Too proud t'Obey, too rigid to Command,
That no Abuse would take, or Mercy give,
Do no Man Right, nor any Wrong receive;
That made, with your loud Pray'rs, your Parlors ring,
Yet never truly serv'd your God or King,
But 'twixt Self-Interest and dissembled Zeal,
With both did hypocritically deal.
You who on Earth did Satan's Wiles defy,
And still made Reformation all your cry;
Who Canted in your Shops, yet chous'd each Friend,
That did on your starch'd Honesty depend;
Who fool'd your selves, tho' play'd the Knave with Fools,
And damn'd, betwixt two Sacraments, your Souls:
Thus barter'd, to your own eternal loss,
Heaven's everlasting Joys for worldly Dross,
Which cannot here th'infernal Wrath appease,
Or purchase for your selves one Moments ease.
On your sad Souls this Sentence must I give,
Which none can e'er reverse, or Time retrieve.
Too proud t'Obey, too rigid to Command,
That no Abuse would take, or Mercy give,
Do no Man Right, nor any Wrong receive;
That made, with your loud Pray'rs, your Parlors ring,
Yet never truly serv'd your God or King,
But 'twixt Self-Interest and dissembled Zeal,
With both did hypocritically deal.
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And still made Reformation all your cry;
Who Canted in your Shops, yet chous'd each Friend,
That did on your starch'd Honesty depend;
Who fool'd your selves, tho' play'd the Knave with Fools,
And damn'd, betwixt two Sacraments, your Souls:
Thus barter'd, to your own eternal loss,
Heaven's everlasting Joys for worldly Dross,
Which cannot here th'infernal Wrath appease,
Or purchase for your selves one Moments ease.
On your sad Souls this Sentence must I give,
Which none can e'er reverse, or Time retrieve.
What you abhor most you shall always see,
Devils and Popes shall your Tormenters be:
Th'Egyptian Creed; which you so much despise,
Two Jesuits shall support before your Eyes;
And ev'ry time you're seen to look ascue,
Nine Salamanca Flogs shall be your due.
Hell's smutty Scullion shall with mighty Bowls
Of scalding Porridge feed your thirsty Souls,
That ev'ry reaking Spoonful you receive,
May a fresh Item to your Mem'ry give,
And make you mindful how profane you were
To, with that hodge-podge Name, revile the best of Pray'r.
High-Church Religion, mingled with no Craft,
Is that alone which carries Souls aloft;
When you too late by sad experience know,
Low-Church has brought your sinful Shades thus low,
Where all these Pains pronounc'd you must endure,
And weeping gnash your Teeth for evermore.
Devils and Popes shall your Tormenters be:
Th'Egyptian Creed; which you so much despise,
Two Jesuits shall support before your Eyes;
And ev'ry time you're seen to look ascue,
Nine Salamanca Flogs shall be your due.
Hell's smutty Scullion shall with mighty Bowls
Of scalding Porridge feed your thirsty Souls,
That ev'ry reaking Spoonful you receive,
May a fresh Item to your Mem'ry give,
And make you mindful how profane you were
To, with that hodge-podge Name, revile the best of Pray'r.
High-Church Religion, mingled with no Craft,
Is that alone which carries Souls aloft;
When you too late by sad experience know,
Low-Church has brought your sinful Shades thus low,
Where all these Pains pronounc'd you must endure,
And weeping gnash your Teeth for evermore.
| A Journey to Hell | |