Matthew 8:30: I Sinners, in that grovelling herd

I Sinners, in that grovelling herd
Mark your own resemblance true,
Receptacles fit prepared
For the whole infernal crew!
Swine, who bear the shape of men,
Slaves of every foul desire.
Plunged in beastly lusts unclean.
Wallowing in your sinful mire.

Lo, the fiends expect their prey,
Legion waits to enter in,
Waits to hurry you away
O'er the precipice of sin!
When the Judge pronounces, Go,
Rush ye down the fatal steep.
To that flaming lake ye go,
Hell's unfathomable deep!