Now Sa­tan comes with dread­ful roar
And threat­ens to de­stroy;
He wor­ries whom he can’t de­vour
With a ma­li­cious joy.

Ye sons of God, op­pose his rage,
Resist, and he’ll be gone;
Thus did our dear­est Lord en­gage
And van­quish him alone.

Now he ap­pears al­most divine,
Like in­no­cence and love;
But the old ser­pent lurks with­in
When he as­sumes the dove.

Fly from the false de­ceiv­er’s tongue,
Ye sons of Ad­am, fly;
Our par­ents found the snare too strong,
Nor should the child­ren try.