The Poems of Goethe Part 104

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 G.o.d's angry frown,

He feels, and grinneth hideously; He feels h.e.l.l's speechless agonies, A thousand times he howls and sighs:

"Oh, 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 cursed career,

Yet far less bad than he were they.

Here lies the countless throng combined, In black and fearful crowds entwined,

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 pa.s.ses Down to h.e.l.l's wild and black mora.s.ses,

And there unfolds His majesty.

h.e.l.l 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; G.o.d turn'd for ever from her sight

His radiant features' glory clear.

Within the realms she calls her own, She sees the splendour of the Son,

His dreaded glories s.h.i.+ning forth; She sees Him clad in rolling thunder, She sees the rocks all quake with wonder,

When G.o.d before her stands in wrath.

She sees He comes her Judge to be,

She feels the awful pangs inside her, Herself to slay endeavours she,

But e'en this comfort is denied her.

Now looks she back, with pains untold, Upon those happy times of old,

When those 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 G.o.d she sought,

And feels the vengeance it entail'd.

G.o.d 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, h.e.l.l! 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 decriest,-- For me alone Messiah died!

A howling rises through the air, A trembling fills each dark vault there,

When Christ to h.e.l.l is seen to come.

She snarls with rage, but needs must cower Before our mighty hero's power;

He signs--and h.e.l.l is straightway dumb.

Before his voice the thunders break,

On high His victor-banner blows; E'en angels at His fury quake,