From Adam to his youngest heir,
Not one shall ’scape that muster-roll;
Each, as if he alone were there,
Shall stand, and win, or lose his soul:
These from the Judge’s presence, go
Down into everlasting woe;
Vengeance hath barred the gates of hell—
The scenes within no tongue can tell.
But lo! far off, the righteous pass
To glory; from the king’s right hand,