The varied accent, and the active limb: 
Hence that implicit faith in Satan’s might,
And their own matchless prowess in the fight. 
In every act they see that lurking foe,
Let loose awhile, about the world to go;
A dragon flying round the earth, to kill
The heavenly hope, and prompt the carnal will;
Whom sainted knights attack in sinners’ cause,
And force the wounded victim from his paws;
Who but for them would man’s whole race subdue,
For not a hireling will the foe pursue. 
   “Show me one Churchman who will rise and pray
Through half the night, though lab’ring all the day,
Always abounding—­show me him, I say:”  —
Thus cries the Preacher, and he adds, “Their sheep
Satan devours at leisure as they sleep. 
Not so with us; we drive him from the fold,
For ever barking and for ever bold: 
While they securely slumber, all his schemes
Take full effect,—­the Devil never dreams: 
Watchful and changeful through the world he goes,
And few can trace this deadliest of their foes;
But I detect, and at his work surprise
The subtle Serpent under all disguise. 
   “Thus to Man’s soul the Foe of Souls will speak,
- ’A Saint elect, you can have nought to seek;
Why all this labour in so plain a case,
Such care to run, when certain of the race?’
All this he urges to the carnal will,
He knows you’re slothful, and would have you still: 
Be this your answer,—­’Satan, I will keep
Still on the watch till you are laid asleep.’ 
Thus too the Christian’s progress he’ll retard:  —
’The gates of mercy are for ever barr’d;
And that with bolts so driven and so stout,
Ten thousand workmen cannot wrench them out.’ 
To this deceit you have but one reply, —
Give to the Father of all Lies the lie. 
   “A Sister’s weakness he’ll by fits surprise,
His her wild laughter, his her piteous cries;
And should a pastor at her side attend,
He’ll use her organs to abuse her friend: 
These are possessions—­unbelieving wits
Impute them all to Nature:  ’They’re her fits,
Caused by commotions in tne nerves and brains;’ —
Vain talk! but they’ll be fitted for their pains. 
   “These are in part the ills the Foe has wrought,
And these the Churchman thinks not worth his thought;
They bid the troubled try for peace and rest,
Compose their minds, and be no more distress’d;
As well might they command the passive shore
To keep secure, and be o’erflow’d no more;
To the wrong subject is their skill applied, —
To act like workmen, they should stem the tide. 
   “These are the Church-Physicians:  they are paid
With noble fees for their advice and aid;
Yet know they not the inward pulse to feel,
To ease the anguish, or the wound to heal. 
With the sick Sinner, thus their work begins: 
’Do you repent you of your former sins? 
Will you amend if you revive and live? 
And, pardon seeking, will you pardon give?