Abashed the Devil stood, And felt how awful goodness is, and saw Virtue in her own shape how lovely; saw And pined his loss.

Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.

Black it stood as night, Fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell, And shook a dreadful dart; what seem'd his head The likeness of a kingly crown had on. Satan was now at hand.

Culture which smooth the whole world licks, Also unto the devil sticks.

From morn To moon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, A summer's day; and with the setting sun Dropt from the zenith like a falling star.

He will give the devil his due.

His confidence shall be rooted out of his tabernacle, and it shall bring him to the king of terrors.

His form had yet not lost All his original brightness, not appear'd Less than arch-angel ruined, and th' excess Of glory obscured.

How are thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! how art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations!

I charge thee, Satan, housed within this man, To yield possession to my holy prayers, And to thy state of darkness hie thee straight. I conjure thee by all the saints in heaven.