O fierce Deceiver, who art wondrously
Deceived and wrested from thy venture, see
Growing in secret and stability
The purpose of creation. Fruitlessly
Hast thou the warfare waged. God ruleth thee.
Great though thy intellect, thou canst not see
A hand's breadth more than He hath granted thee:
Thou canst not gain a point, unless it be
For God's own purposes conceded thee;
Nor, unpermitted, gain one victory.
His is the grandeur of thy power, and He
Will reckon for its usage; woe to thee.
Thy grace misused will all recoil on thee:
Thy very might the thunder-bolt will be
To hurl thee headlong through eternity.
The Archangel Michael cometh presently
When thou again wilt hear that battle-cry:
'Who is like God?' But not as yet will be
The final consummation. Time will be
Permitted for thy latest blasphemy.
'Rejoice, ye Heavens: yea, sing with jubilee.
But mourn, O Earth: thy foe comes down on thee
With wrath and power endued. Yet knoweth he
His time is short, and therefore urgeth he
Against the Woman, warfare - ruthlessly.'
Hear in the heavens a cry: 'Triumphantly
Come is the Kingdom of our God; for see,
The strength of Christ is manifested. He
Hath the accuser baffled. Nor will be
Upraised the trophies of his victory.
'The Accuser's time is short. His enmity
Toucheth the Woman not, yet shall it be
Poured on the Righteous Seed.' Oh, stedfastly
Fight on until the end, since War must be
Forerunner of a gladsome Victory.
- text taken from Mary: The Perfect Woman, by Emily Mary Shapcote