The banqueting-house, or, A feast of fat things a divine poem, opening many sacred…The banquetting-house, or, A feast of fat things a divine poem, opening many sacred…

The Second Part. 1 NO light, but darkness there doth dwell! No peace, but horror strange: Ah! they who once do come to Hell, Will find a dismal change; 2 A fiery Lake, a Furnace hot, A Burning Oven too It is compared in God's Word, And thither Sinners go. 3 And further, God to show their state Who in their sins do die, Compares it to burning Brimstone, To show their misery. 4 And as a stinking steam and smoke Of Brimstone bad does smell, And blinds the Eyes, and Stomach chokes, So are the pangs of Hell. 5 To see a Sea of Brimstone burn, Would it you not affright? But they whom God to Hell doth turn, Are in a worser plight. 6 This burning cannot quenched be, No, not with Tears of Blood; No mournful groans in misery Will there do any good. 7 O damned Sinners see your fate, The Day of Grace is done; Repentance now is much too late, All mercy's fled and gone.

The Second Part. 1 NO light, but darkness there doth dwell! No peace, but horror strange: Ah! they who once do come to Hell, Will find a dismal ch•nge; 2 A fiery Lake, a Furnace hot, A Burning Oven too It is compared in God's Word, And thither Sinners go. 3 And further, God to shew their state Who in their sins do die, Compares it to burning Brimstone, To shew their misery. 4 And as a stinking steam and smoak Of Brimstone bad does smell, And blinds the Eyes, and Stomach choaks, So are the pangs of Hell. 5 To see a Sea of Brimstone burn, Would it you not affright? But they whom God to Hell doth turn, Are in a worser plight. 6 This burning cannot quenched be, No, not with Tears of Blood; No mournful groans in misery Will there do any good. 7 O damned Sinners see your fate, The Day of Grace is done; Repentance now is much too late, All mercy's fled and gone.

The Second Part. 1 Pet. 3. 19. The Spirits in Prison. 1 Hell also, in another place, Is called a Prison too; And all to show the woeful case Of such sin doth undo: 2 Which Prison, with its Lock and Bars Of God's lasting Decree, Will hold them fast; O how this mars All thoughts of being free. 3 Out of these brazen Bars may they The Saints in glory see; But this will not their grief allay, But to them torment be. 4 Those Chains that darkness on them hangs, Still rattling in their Ears, Creates within them heavy pangs, And still augments their Tears. 6 Thus hopeless of all remedy, They dyingly do sink Into the Jaws of Misery, And Seas of Sorrows drink; 6 For being filled on every fide With helplesness and grief, Headlong into despair they slide, Bereft of all relief.