Here shall sweep the victor's sword
So that to deep hollows, will evils fall
Into the swart flame
Into the camp of foes
The shoal of the wicked
Accursed to perdition
Within the house of torment
The death-hall of the devil!

Not the earth's remembrance
Shall they seek after?
Will not emerge from sin
Where they, stained with crimes
Bound in flame, shall suffer
Shall be to them sin-vengeance
That is eternal death!

That hot gulph may not, from the race of men
In all eternity, burn up sin, throughout all time
Stain the soul & feedeth the dreary
Hold spirits in darkness!

Flames scorch them with its ancient might
With the frost of terror
And with fierce worms
May it torment many!

So that we may judge and never declare
That the soul's guardian
Life's wisdom hath lost
Who now heedeth not
Whether his spirit be happy or sad
Where he shall for ever
After death, sojourn!