I hate the tempter and his charms,
I hate his flattering breath;
The serpent takes a thousand forms
To cheat our souls to death.

He feeds our hope with airy dreams
Or kills with slavish fear;
And holds us still in wide extremes,
Presumption or despair.

Now he persuades, How easy ’tis
To walk the road to Heav’n;
Anon he swells our sins, and cries,
They cannot be forgiv’n.

He bids young sinners, Yet forbear
To think of God, or death;
For prayer and devotion are
But melancholy breath.

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.

Thus he supports his cruel throne
By mischief and deceit,
And drags the sons of Ad­am down
To darkness and the pit.

Almighty God, cut short his power;
Let him in darkness dwell;
And that he vex the earth no more,
Confine him down to hell.