Satan monologue — Satan Absolved: A Victorian Mystery

Lord, by none of these, Thy floods, Thy flames, Thy storms were puerilities. He hath too large a cunning to be taken thus. He would outride Thy waves, outblast Thy sulphurous Winds with his counter-winds. He liveth on foul air As on the breath of heaven. He hath nor thought nor care For Thy worst lightning strokes, holding their principle Rock-firm in his own hand. All natural powers fulfil His brain's omnipotence. He standeth at each point Armed for defiant war in harness without joint. Though Thou shouldst break the Earth in twain he should not bend. Thou needest a force to aid Thee, an ally, a friend, A principle of good which shall outwit his guile With true white guilelessness, his anger with a smile, His force with utter weakness. Only thus, Lord God, Shalt Thou regain Thy Earth, a purified abode, And rid it of the Human.