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All men are called in time

Venture to halls divine

In the realm of Hades

Where death is as in life

When flesh had loosed its bind

And set the soul free in haste

Suspended in the state

The heart ceased its beat

The dead roam onward

Splattered with their blood

Or in elder robes

Waiting in endless line

Carried from the shores

By Charon’s oars

To the realm of death

The flush of life bereft

The judgment of their deeds

Into the courts of Hades

Whether the fields to go

Pain, longing, or glory bestow’d!

The scepter judges true

Which land awaits you

Torment from which eyes turn

Or meadows where golden blossoms burn!