The Devil is out unfettered;
His dens lie deep in hell;
His power is scarcely bettered;
Who can his cunning tell?
He roams in raving hunger;
The world is his course;
He's dreadful more than thunder
Where'er he has recourse.
Destruction wanders with him,
And death is in his hand;
A mighty host is with him;
Well armed is his band.
He lies in ambush for thee;
He hovers near thy path;
He follows ever by thee;
An aim on thee he hath.
Then haste thee, haste thee; surely
Ye soon will feel his power.
Be watchful, be not weary;
Let not thy spirit cower.
The path is steep and narrow;
'Tis rugged, rough, and torn;
A harsh, a testing harrow,
Beset with many a thorn.
There yawns a mighty chasm;
The fearful pit is deep;
'Tis terror but to see them;
It makes the spirit creep.
No guide but One is able
To lead thee safely through;
All others are unstable,
Unfit, untried, untrue.
Fly to the rock for safety--
The rock he cannot climb!
Fly! fly! nor think it hasty;
And trust not fickle time.