Is this the man, on earth so gay?
In splendor, there, and rich array,
With daily feast and pamper'd ease,
He study'd every sense to please.

Alas, how chang'd! now doom'd to dwell
In the devouring flames of hell.
All wild with pain, he lifts his eyes
Up to the hills of paradise.

There he beholds at Abraham's side
The lazar, who of hunger dy'd;
Whose fruitless cries had oft implor'd
The offals of his wasteful board.

O Father Abraham, he said,
“Send, send, in mercy, to my aid
“Good Lazarus, to cool my tongue;
“With flame and raging thirst I'm stung.”

The patriarch spoke: Thy good, my son,
Is past; on earth its course was run.
Past are the ills, which Laz'rus bore;
The beggar Laz'rus weeps no more.

By equal retribution, know,
His lot is joy, but thine is woe.
Unpassable, by fix'd decree,
Is the deep gulf 'tween us and thee.