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 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.