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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 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 foeman 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 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 lived 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;
Oh, friends, what joy doth this betide!

For us, for us He still will fight!
The angels sacred quire around

Rejoice before the mighty Lord,
So that all creatures hear the sound:

“Zebaoth’s God be aye ador’d!”

1765.