On a Dream of Hell

Start not, my Soul, 'tis but a Dream, to show
The dismal Terrors of eternal Woe,
Which unrepenting Sinners feel below:
Where Satan with his cursed Crue do dwell,
For their Ambition tumbled down to Hell;
While we rejoice on the Divine Presence
Of our exalted Bliss, by Penitence.
Those fiery Streams, we seem to see,
May give us joy to find that we are free
From that sad Doom, where Torments never cease,
But rather to Eternity increase:
While our Conversion doth aloud proclaim,
What mighty Honour due to God's great Name;
Who will, in Mercy, save a Reprobate,
If his Repentance do not come too late?