lers of sea and land,
Who know each strand below the sky;
Declare if ye have seen a place,
Where Adam's race can Death defy!

Ye scholars, and ye lawyer crowds,
Who are as gods reputed wise;
Can ye from all the lore ye know,
'Gainst Death bestow some good advice?

The world, the flesh, and Devil, compose
The direst foes of mortals poor;
But take good heed of Death the Great,
From the Lost Gate, Destruction o'er.

'Tis not worth while of Death to prate,
Of his Lost Gate and courts so wide;
But O reflect! it much imports,
Of the two courts in which ye're tried.

It here can little signify
If the street high we cross, or low;
Each lofty thought doth rise, be sure,
The soul to lure to deepest woe.

But by the wall that's ne'er re-pass'd,
To gripe thee fast when Death prepares,
Heed, heed thy steps, for thou mayst mourn
The slightest turn for endless years.

When opes the door, and swiftly hence
To its residence eternal flies
The soul, it matters much, which side
Of the gulf wide its journey lies.

Deep penitence, amended life,
A bosom rife of zeal and faith,
Can help to man alone impart,
Against the smart and sting of Death.

These things to thee seem worthless now,
But not so low will they appear
When thou art come, O thoughtless friend!
Just to the end of thy career.

Thou'lt deem, when thou hast done with earth,
These things of worth unspeakable,
Beside the gulf so black and drear,
The gulf of Fear, 'twixt Heaven and Hell.

A Vision of Hell.

One fair morning of genial April, when the earth was green and pregnant,
and Britain, like a paradise, was wearing splendid liveries, tokens of
the smile of the summer sun, I was walking upon the bank of the Severn,
in the midst of the sweet notes of the little songsters of the wood, who
appeared to be striving to break through all the measures of music,
whilst pouring forth praise to the Creator. I too occasionally raised my
voice, and warbled with the feathered choir, though in a manner somewhat
more restrained than that in which they sang; and occasionally read a
portion of the book of the Practice of Godliness. Nevertheless, my
former visions would not depart from my remembrance, but continually
troubled me by coming across all other thoughts. And they persisted in
doing so, until, by arguing the matter minutely with myself, I reflected
that there is no vision but what comes from above, to warn one to be upon
one's guard, and that consequen