Close to thee, yet so powerless to command
The smallest cup of Love; for selfish mind
In danger's hour is to itself confined;
While sin at first may have a bosom friend
To utter selfishness at last its end.

I pity Thee, thou unclad, noisome Thing,
Like leaf in winter wind a shivering;

What once thy garment answering to our flesh?
Surely thy spirit once was held in mesh
Of Glorious substance-beautiful to see
More delicate than human flesh can be.
What once thy Covering? surely it was spun
Out of the finest nature 'neath the sun,
And an Imperial splendor on thee laid—

One of the Grandest Creatures that CHRIST made.
Now fallen far from thy once high estate,
Now maddened at thy fell, appalling fate,
Thou hast for God and Man enduring hate
That falters not through years no man can date.
Surely thy pathway since that awful morn
Thou and thy Fellows held the CHRIST in SCorn,
Hath been an awful track, high handed crime
That never wavered in the course of time.

I am most curious-and I fain would ask-
What well I know to be a fruitless task-
Who was thy Leader in that wild affray?
Hast still That Captain charge of thee to-day
Who bid thee shout for Satan and his cause?
I may as well 'til Doomsday, waiting, pause-

Never an answer- -are thy thin lips sealed?
And I may only guess what not revealed.
Has CHRIST'S Imperial Mandate put a ban
Upon your lips at present-but later can
Relate thy vile Rebellion to a man—
How Sin commenced and Misery began?

Thou bitter Enemy, who ever creeps
Around my Being-and that never sleeps-
But ever art alert, and sharply keen,
For ever present tho' not heard, nor seen,
Yet surely thou art ever standing near,
So ever unseen shadow and a fear,
A shadow dreadful, for thy subtlety
More keen than ever mortals dare to be.

Thou a fell Gamester, with thy loaded dice, Playing marked cards, and no ways over nice In cheating, heeding not if art found out, Brazen of face, and with a braggart's mouth Full of half truths whereby to cheat the soul, Reckless of means-if but you gain control.

Now by thy sin unclad-Lo, Thou, art bare
And ever seeketh Human Flesh to wear,
Thou canst not come unbidden, but if men
Of their free will bid thee to enter in-
Dwell with their spirit-thou art free to go
And work within thy victim fear and woe:
Tho' learned Professors at such folly scoff
Surely that soul from GOD and CHRIST cut off.

So men have power to hold thy art at bay,
Thou canst not enter if I wish thee, Nay,
My soul a citadel thou canst not win,
Thou hast no power to even enter in,
Impregnable to all thy fierce assault-

If thou should enter truly mine own fault,
Deliberated Wickedness, without cause

Alone, if I break God's most solemn laws
To bid thee welcome, this would CHRIST defy-
And doing so-Apostate I should die!

Tho' I may laugh and scorn thee in that way
Thou standeth every moment night and day

To tempt by dream, by thought, by sight, by sense;
Thy spirit watcheth ever more intense

To gain my will, to lead my feet aside

From the one Path trod by THE CRUCIFIED!
And thus am I beholden to thy gaze

Lo, thou wouldst lead my soul in many a maze,
Make error seem a Truth-so mix the two
'Til I oft mystified as which the true.
For, ah, thou art most cunning to deceive,
Will whisper: "Such indeed you should believe!"
So fluently will quote The Blessed Word
Not with a reasoning foolish, nor absurd,
But Precious Truth so mingled with thy lies
'Tis surely not a wonder if mine eyes
Readeth as GOD's, a meaning of thine own-
So simple Faith ofttimes is overthrown,
Thy "Thus saith GOD!" so subtly is said
That saints of CHRIST oft into error led.
What mortal trained like thee in every art?

No line in life but Thou hast taken part,
Perfect in each detail, and lacking naught
To shape the human heart with cunning thought.
And, oh, thy Patience! with unruffled will,
Tho' ofttimes foiled yet patiently art still
Set to accomplish one fell daring aim—
As if the doing brought Immortal Fame.
Yes, Fame abhorrent to the Righteous Soul!
So patient in thy waiting to control

The heart, the mind, the actions of the one
Whom thou hast set thy silent hate upon.

Through many weary ages thou wert trained
To learn thy knowledge, it has been obtained
By close attention, and unswerving toil,
Watching humanity in peace and broil-
Noting of failings, springs of hate and pride,
Watching the phases of a life that's tried
By strong or weak temptations-noting well
What soul triumphant, and what soul that fell
By this or that; and where you failed or gained,
And by what vice the Conquering was obtained.

This Human scorning what another took-
That one entrammeled by lascivious book-
This one in scorn of all immoral things
But to the covetousness of Gold he clings:
Varied Temptations-countless in detail-
To one of them each mortal bound to fail.
So with the passing of each weary age
Thou hast indeed become a hoary sage

In knowledge which temptation is the one
To win the wretch thy care is set upon.
When to such knowledge crafty cunning wed
Surely no wonder men are hell-ward led,

The Master mind that strikes with Master hand
Hath a fell power few mortals can withstand.
Ah, the sad winning of the many dead
Whom thy seducing to Destruction wed-
Aye, step by step in sinning-then despair—
Thou to their fate has never given a care.

What weary, weary ages thou hast sinn’d—
And, oh, the Awfulness, 'twill never end!
Unending and unceasing in thy spite
To every Law that's noble, good or right;
Unthinkable the ages yet to be

Living and sinning still continually—

All, all the Coming Ages yet to come
Shall find, Vile Soul,-lips to all praises dumb—
I stand appalled-I shudder at thy fate-
Thou shalt forever be a living Hate.

And better than myself-myself you knowTo fathom all my moods both quick and slow, Just knowing where to tempt and to betray, Where show thy strength, or in a calm, slow way, Beckon with luring images to crime

Against my new born nature, 'til the slime
Is o'er me-spittle from serpent tongue
Covers the victim e'er the feast begun.

Thou Unclean Spirit, squatting with sneer grin,