1 I hate the tempter and his charms,
I hate his flattering breath;
The serpent takes a thousand forms
To cheat our souls to death.
2 He feeds our hopes with airy dreams,
Or kills with slavish fear;
And holds us still in wide extremes,
Presumption, or despair.
3 Now he persuades, |How easy 'tis
|To walk the road to heaven;|
Anon he swells our sins, and cries,
|They cannot be forgiven.|
4 [He bids young sinners, |Yet forbear
|To think of God or death;
|For prayer and devotion are
|But melancholy breath.|
5 He tells the aged, |They must die,
|And 'tis too late to pray;
|In vain for mercy now they cry,
|For they have lost their day.|]
6 Thus he supports his cruel throne
By mischief and deceit;
And drags the sons of Adam down
To darkness and the pit.
7 Almighty God, cut short his power,
Let him in darkness dwell;
And, that he vex the earth no more,
Confine him down to hell.