‘He Died, and the Emancipated Soul’

He died, and the emancipated soul

Flew upward, upward, till it came to--hell’s gate;

Where it was told, that, having left at night,

It should have gone down, not have mounted upward,

For heaven, above all day, by night was downward.

But the soul being ethereal could not sink down

Through the thick dense air, and but higher rose

The more it struggled to fly headlong downward.

So in compassion hell’s gate-porter stowed it

In neighbouring Limbo with unchristened children’s

Innocent helpless spirits, suicides,

And souls which, like itself, had gone astray,

There in asylum safe the tedious time

To while as best it might till mother church

Decided how at last to be disposed of

Convenient Limbo’s church-perplexing spirits.