Hell.

Hell is no other but a soundless pit,
Where no one beam of comfort peeps in it.

One only fire has hell; but yet it shall
Not after one sort there excruciate all:
But look, how each transgressor onward went
Boldly in sin, shall feel more punishment.

The fire of hell this strange condition hath,
To burn, not shine, as learned Basil saith.

God has His whips here to a twofold end:
The bad to punish, and the good t' amend.

When I shall sin, pardon my trespass here;
For once in hell, none knows remission there.

Permit mine eyes to see
Part, or the whole of Thee,
O happy place!
Where all have grace,
And garlands shar'd,
For their reward;
Where each chaste soul
In long white stole,
And palms in hand,
Do ravish'd stand;
So in a ring,
The praises sing
Of Three in One
That fill the Throne;
While harps and viols then
To voices say, Amen.