1 I hate the tempter and his charms,
I hate his flatt'ring 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 heav'n;"
Anon he swells our sins, and cries,
"They cannot be forgiv'n."

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 pow'r,
Let him in darkness dwell;
And that he vex the earth no more,
Confine him down to hell.