Analysis of Thoughts On Jesus Christ's Decent Into Hell
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe 1749 (Frankfurt) – 1832 (Weimar)
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 expired.
The triumph to yon realms He shows,--
Remote from earth, where star ne'er glows,
The triumph He for us acquired.
He cometh, Hell to extirpate,
Whom He, by dying, wellnigh 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:
"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 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 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 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 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 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 decriest,--
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 fro
Scheme | AA BCC DE FEC GG XHH XI JIJ KK LMM LX NXN OO FXX FP QPQ RS TUU TX VAV XX FTT FL RLS DX XWW XF WFW XX YZZ Y1 2 1 2 3 3 FNN F4 5 4 5 FF LB OL A6 A6 7 7 8 WW 8 E HEH WW XAC |
---|---|
Poetic Form | |
Metre | 11011101 110010101 01010101 11010101 11111111 11010111 1101111 11010101 1100101 010111 11101101 110010101 11011101 01011111 01111111 010111010 1101110 1111011 11010101 11011101 11010111 11110111 11011111 11110101 01111101 01111111 10111101 01010101 01110101 11011101 11010101 11011101 11011000 11110100 01011101 11011101 111001001 11101010 1000101 011111010 11010111 01011101 11111101 11010101 01010101 11110011 11110101 11010111 1111011 011111101 011101010 111101010 01011100 11010101 11010101 100110101 1101111 1110101 11110101 110010101 01011101 1101101 11010101 111101010 110111110 11010101 11110111 110101010 011111 1111101010 11111101 01110111 1110101 11010101 10110101 0101011 1111111 11010101 11011111 01010101 11110111 11011101 111110111 11110111 01010111 11010111 11111011 01001100 11010101 11111111 11111100 110010101 11111011 1101111 110100111 111010101 11110111 11110111 0111111 11010101 01010101 010011111 11111111 111111110 0110101010 1101111 01110101 11110101 111011101 11101101 111011110 110111010 111101001 1111011 111 |
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 4,015 |
Words | 731 |
Sentences | 40 |
Stanzas | 47 |
Stanza Lengths | 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 3, 2, 3, 2, 3 |
Lines Amount | 115 |
Letters per line (avg) | 28 |
Words per line (avg) | 6 |
Letters per stanza (avg) | 68 |
Words per stanza (avg) | 15 |
Font size:
Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 3:49 min read
- 146 Views
Citation
Use the citation below to add this poem analysis to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Thoughts On Jesus Christ's Decent Into Hell" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 3 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem-analysis/21891/thoughts-on-jesus-christ%27s-decent-into-hell>.
Discuss this Johann Wolfgang von Goethe poem analysis with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In