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THOUGHTS ON JESUS CHRIST’S DESCENT INTO HELL. - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Goethe’s Works, vol. 1 (Poems) [1885]

Edition used:

Goethe’s Works, illustrated by the best German artists, 5 vols. (Philadelphia: G. Barrie, 1885). Vol. 1.

Part of: Goethe’s Works, 5 vols.

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THOUGHTS ON JESUS CHRIST’S DESCENT INTO HELL.

    • WHAT wondrous noise is heard around!
    • Through heaven exulting voices sound,
    • A mighty army marches on.
    • By thousand millions follow’d, lo,
    • To yon dark place makes haste to go
    • God’s Son, descending from His throne!
    • He goes—the tempests round Him break,
    • As Judge and Hero cometh He;
    • He goes—the constellations quake,
    • The sun, the world quake fearfully.
    • I see Him in His victor-car,
    • On fiery axles borne afar,
    • Who on the cross for us expir’d.
    • The triumph to yon realms He shows,—
    • Remote from earth, where star ne’er glows,—
    • The triumph He for us acquir’d.
    • He cometh, Hell to extirpate,
    • Whom He, by dying, well nigh kill’d;
    • He shall pronounce her fearful fate:
    • Hark! now the curse is straight fulfill’d.
    • Hell sees the victor come at last,
    • She feels that now her reign is past,
    • She quakes and fears to meet His sight;
    • She knows His thunders’ terrors dread,
    • In vain she seeks to hide her head,
    • Attempts to fly, but vain is flight;
    • Vainly she hastes to ’scape pursuit
    • And to avoid her Judge’s eye;
    • The Lord’s fierce wrath restrains her foot
    • Like brazen chains,—she cannot fly.
    • Here lies the Dragon, trampled down,
    • He lies, and feels God’s angry frown,
    • He feels, and grinneth hideously;
    • He feels Hell’s speechless agonies;
    • A thousand times he howls and sighs:
    • “O burning flames! quick, swallow me!”
    • There lies he in the fiery waves,
    • By torments rack’d and pangs infernal,
    • Instant annihilation craves,
    • And hears those pangs will be eternal.
    • Those mighty squadrons, too, are here,
    • The partners of his curs’d career,
    • Yet far less bad than he were they.
    • Here lies the countless throng combin’d,
    • In black and fearful crowds entwin’d,
    • While round him fiery tempests play;
    • He sees how they the Judge avoid,
    • He sees the storm upon them feed,
    • Yet is not at the sight o’erjoy’d,
    • Because his pangs e’en theirs exceed.
    • The Son of Man in triumph passes
    • Down to Hell’s wild and black morasses,
    • And there unfolds His majesty.
    • Hell cannot bear the bright array,
    • For, since her first created day,
    • Darkness alone e’er govern’d she.
    • She lay remote from ev’ry light,
    • With torments fill’d in Chaos here;
    • God turn’d forever from her sight
    • His radiant features’ glory clear.
    • Within the realms she calls her own,
    • She sees the splendor of the Son,
    • His dreaded glories shining forth;
    • She sees Him clad in rolling thunder,
    • She sees the rocks all quake with wonder
    • When God before her stands in wrath.
    • She sees He comes her Judge to be,
    • She feels the awful pangs inside her,
    • Herself to slay endeavors she,
    • But e’en this comfort is denied her.
    • Now looks she back, with pains untold,
    • Upon those happy times of old,
    • When all these glories gave her joy;
    • When yet her heart revered the truth,
    • When her glad soul, in endless youth
    • And rapture dwelt, without alloy.
    • She calls to mind with madden’d thought
    • How over man her wiles prevail’d;
    • To take revenge on God she sought,
    • And feels the vengeance it entail’d.
    • God was made man, and came to earth.
    • Then Satan cried with fearful mirth:
    • “E’en He my victim now shall be!”
    • He sought to slay the Lord Most High,
    • The world’s Creator now must die;
    • But, Satan, endless woe to thee!
    • Thou thought’st to overcome Him then,
    • Rejoicing in His suffering;
    • But He in triumph comes again
    • To bind thee: Death! where is thy sting?
    • Speak, Hell! where is thy victory?
    • Thy power destroy’d and scatter’d see!
    • Know’st thou not now the Highest’s might?
    • See, Satan, see thy rule o’erthrown!
    • By thousand-varying pangs weigh’d down,
    • Thou dwell’st in dark and endless night.
    • As though by lightning struck thou liest,
    • No gleam of rapture far or wide;
    • In vain! no hope thou there descriest,—
    • For me alone Messiah died!
    • A howling rises through the air,
    • A trembling fills each dark vault there,
    • When Christ to Hell is seen to come.
    • She snarls with rage, but needs must cower
    • Before our mighty Hero’s power;
    • He signs—and Hell is straightway dumb.
    • Before His voice the thunders break,
    • On high His victor-banner blows;
    • E’en angels at His fury quake,
    • When Christ to the dread judgment goes.
    • Now speaks He, and His voice is thunder,
    • He speaks, the rocks are rent in sunder,
    • His breath is like devouring flames.
    • Thus speaks He: “Tremble, ye accurs’d!
    • He who from Eden hurl’d you erst,
    • Your kingdom’s overthrow proclaims.
    • Look up! My children once were ye,
    • Your arms against Me then ye turn’d,
    • Ye fell, that ye might sinners be,
    • Ye’ve now the wages that ye earn’d.
    • “My greatest foemen from that day,
    • Ye led My dearest friends astray,—
    • As ye had fallen, man must fall.
    • To kill him evermore ye sought,
    • ‘They all shall die the death,’ ye thought;
    • But howl! for Me I’ve won them all.
    • For them alone did I descend,
    • For them pray’d, suffer’d, perish’d I.
    • Ye ne’er shall gain your wicked end;
    • Who trusts in Me shall never die.
    • “In endless chains here lie ye now,
    • Nothing can save you from the slough,
    • Not boldness, not regret for crime.
    • Lie, then, and writhe in brimstone fire!
    • ’Twas ye yourselves drew down Mine ire,
    • Lie and lament throughout all time!
    • And also ye, whom I selected,
    • E’en ye forever I disown,
    • For ye My saving grace rejected;
    • Ye murmur? blame yourselves alone!
    • “Ye might have liv’d with Me in bliss,
    • For I of yore had promis’d this;
    • Ye sinn’d, and all My precepts slighted.
    • Wrapp’d in the sleep of sin ye dwelt,
    • Now is My fearful judgment felt,
    • By a just doom your guilt requited.”
    • Thus spake He, and a fearful storm
    • From Him proceeds, the lightnings glow,
    • The thunders seize each wicked form,
    • And hurl them in the gulf below.
    • The God-man closeth Hell’s sad doors;
    • In all His majesty He soars
    • From those dark regions back to light:
    • He sitteth at the Father’s side.
    • O friends, what joy doth this betide!
    • For us, for us He still will fight!
    • The angels’ sacred choir around
    • Rejoice before the mighty Lord,
    • So that all creatures hear the sound:
    • “Zebaoth’s God be aye ador’d!”
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