When time shall cease, in moving hour,
And Nature's laws revert to plan,
The beasts and insects, with the flower,
Shall pass in order with vile man.

The sinners will, in grouping file,
In human Autumn's ordered spell,
Go speeding on in mournful style,
Right to the flooded gates of Hell.

With wonder and amazement then,
The rich will look upon the poor;
But none shall be the same old men
Who often closed the Saviour's door.

By sins and virtues firm, each one
Shall have his rightful final pay;
No other choice will be for man
On this the final Judgment Day.

No wealth, no pull nor influence
Will save the cruel human crust;
With sin, each one will go from thence
To punishment of venal dust.

The virtues of the Mundane Life
Shall lead the subjects to The Crown,
But those of sin shall see the strife,
When Angels strike the culprits down.