Prudentius

That the dead might know salvation,
who in limbo long had dwelt,
Into hell with love he entered;
to him yield the broken gates
As the bolts and massive hinges
fall asunder at his word.
Now the door of ready entrance,
but forbidding all return
Outward swings as bars are loosened
and sends forth the prisoned souls
By reversal of the mandate,
treading its threshold once more.

Who goes roaring around, raging madly
As he seeks to entrap and devour us,
When, O infinite God, we praise thee only!