Verse 1
A saint quite off his guard
Is for the fiend prepar’d:
When in grace they cease to grow,
When they in their grace confide,
Souls are ready for the foe,
Garnish’d, and adorn’d by pride.
Verse 2
The house which seems so clean,
And swept from every sin,
Tempts the tempter to come back;
Satan and a troop from hell
Of the soul possession take,
In the saint forever dwell.