With heavy heart oft I recall to mind How many a loving friend unwarnèd fell To bottomless perdition, there to find A dread abode where he for aye must dwell; Who erst were men are now like hounds of Hell And with unceasing energy entice To dire combustion all with wily spell, And to themselves have ta’en the devils’ guise, Their power and skill all ill to do in every wise. With heavy heart I roamed the dismal land That is ordained the sinner’s end to be; What mighty waves surge wild on every hand! What gloomy shadows haunt its canopy! What horrors fall on high and mean degree! How hideous is the mien of its fell lords, What shrieks rise from that boundless glowing sea, How fierce the curses of the damnèd hordes, No mortal ken can e’er conceive or paint in words. With heavy heart we mourn true friends or kin And grieve the loss of home, of liberty, Of that good name which all aspire to win Or health and ease and sweet tranquility; When dim, dark clouds enshroud our memory And pass ’tween us and heaven’s gracious smiles, ’Tis sadder far to wake to misery And feel that Pleasure now no more beguiles, That sin has left nought but the wounds of its base wiles. With heavy heart the valiantest of men Lays low his head beneath th’ impending doom; In terror he descends death’s awsome glen; While there appear flashing through the gloom The lurid shades of deeds which in the bloom Of youth he dared; at last the conscience cries With ruthless voice: “There’s life beyond the tomb;” His dying thoughts all vanities despise As on the threshold of Eternity he lies. The heavy heart that suffers all such grief May, while the breath of life doth still remain, Hope for a joyous peace and blest relief; But if grim Death his fated victim gain, Woe’s him that entereth the realm of pain— For e’er on him its frowning portals close, Nor gleam of hope shall he perceive again, For in that vast eternal night he knows A woe awaits that far surpasseth earthly woes. The heavy heart beneath its weight is crushed, And at its very name—Damnation writ, All men their vain and froward clamors hushed; But when within the fiery gaping pit Whose flaming ramparts none will ever quit, Above the thunder’s roar th’ accursed host Raise such loud cries, it passeth human wit To dream of aught so dire, for at the most, All woes of earth as pleasures seem unto the lost.