The Messenger of Light

Enrobed in scarlet, with a reddish tone,
The DEVIL once was easily made known – 
Infernal monster of the lowest parts,
And greatest master of the blackest arts!

Then men could see him with his teeth and claws,
And mouth, that dripped of rage, with sunken jaws;
Proudly he held the emblem of his pow’r,
Whose fearful trident makes the simple cow’r,

Then, robbing tombs and opening the graves,
He dragged his helpless victims to the caves,
Made sport of torment, and on foolish knaves,
Practic’d the horrors of his ghastly raves.

But decades, years, and cent’ries long have passed,
And SATAN’S image now has been recast!
He saw that men had finally grown of age,
Refused his myths and feared no more his rage.

No kings approach the oracles of old,
Observe the birds, or read the liver’s fold;
And common men are slow to bow the knee
Before crude idols shaped of stone and tree.

In counsel with the fallen fiends of hell,
Where grotesque monsters and the demons dwell,
Each evil spirit gives his best advice,
To ruin man, and lead him into vice.

Until APOLLYON begins to speak:
His counsel is so wise, the devils shriek!
“If man is cultured, then be cultured too;
Put off your terror, and begin to woo!”

Then quick the Devil drops his crimson cloak,
Files down the horns, cleans off the scent of smoke,
Orders a suit of purest snow-storm white,
Blinds all his court with his apparent light!

Then like a flaming comet speeds through air,
To take his seat on the exalted chair,
Where masters, scholars, doctors give acclaim,
And men of skill and science court his fame.

His lofty thoughts indwell their minds and hearts,
(His poison’s sweeter than his flaming darts);
He tells them of the things they wish to hear,
And lays on sin a philosophic sheer.

“Renounce with me your superstitious thought;
For faith and God, how many wars were fought!
In ancient times men lived by sight and sound,
No longer by such fables are we bound.”

Then he expounds the universe’s age,
That nothing was in the primeval stage,
And by no reason, for no plan at all,
The nothing grew and formed the largest ball!

Hence human beings have no master plan
But ‘rose from fish and chimp to form a man;
No guiding hand directs this glor’ous fate,
Colliding ATOMS randomly create.

Replace the ancient gods of faith and lore;
The god of CHANCE is all that we adore!
He cannot hear a prayer or wipe a tear,
But by his thoughtless fate we all appear.

Then lest they doubt his doctrine to be true,
Suspect his schemes, or dare his lies eschew,
He claims that SATAN was a myth of lore,
Which modern man may safely now ignore.

By words like these, and much sophistic speech,
The scheme’s accomplished, and the devils teach,
Lead man from truth, and set him on a path
That’s wide and crowded, on his way to wrath.