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MARTIN LUTHER. by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: Summary, Meaning & Analysis

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

This poem immerses us in Martin Luther's thoughts while he hides at Wartburg Castle after the Catholic Church labels him a heretic.

The poem
Our God, a Tower of Strength is He, A goodly wall and weapon; From all our need He helps us free, That now to us doth happen. The old evil foe Doth in earnest grow, In grim armor dight, Much guile and great might; On earth there is none like him. Oh yes; a tower of strength indeed, A present help in all our need, A sword and buckler is our God. Innocent men have walked unshod O'er burning ploughshares, and have trod Unharmed on serpents in their path, And laughed to scorn the Devil's wrath! Safe in this Wartburg tower I stand Where God hath led me by the hand, And look down, with a heart at ease, Over the pleasant neighborhoods, Over the vast Thuringian Woods, With flash of river, and gloom of trees, With castles crowning the dizzy heights, And farms and pastoral delights, And the morning pouring everywhere Its golden glory on the air. Safe, yes, safe am I here at last, Safe from the overwhelming blast Of the mouths of Hell, that followed me fast, And the howling demons of despair That hunted me like a beast to his lair. Of our own might we nothing can; We soon are unprotected: There fighteth for us the right Man, Whom God himself elected. Who is He; ye exclaim? Christus is his name, Lord of Sabaoth, Very God in troth; The field He holds forever. Nothing can vex the Devil more Than the name of him whom we adore. Therefore doth it delight me best To stand in the choir among the rest, With the great organ trumpeting Through its metallic tubes, and sing: Et verbum caro factum est! These words the devil cannot endure, For he knoweth their meaning well! Him they trouble and repel, Us they comfort and allure, And happy it were, if our delight Were as great as his affright! Yea, music is the Prophet's art; Among the gifts that God hath sent, One of the most magnificent! It calms the agitated heart; Temptations, evil thoughts, and all The passions that disturb the soul, Are quelled by its divine control, As the evil spirit fled from Saul, And his distemper was allayed, When David took his harp and played. This world may full of Devils be, All ready to devour us; Yet not so sore afraid are we, They shall not overpower us. This World's Prince, howe'er Fierce he may appear, He can harm us not, He is doomed, God wot! One little word can slay him! Incredible it seems to some And to myself a mystery, That such weak flesh and blood as we, Armed with no other shield or sword, Or other weapon than the Word, Should combat and should overcome A spirit powerful as he! He summons forth the Pope of Rome With all his diabolic crew, His shorn and shaven retinue Of priests and children of the dark; Kill! kill! they cry, the Heresiarch, Who rouseth up all Christendom Against us; and at one fell blow Seeks the whole Church to overthrow! Not yet; my hour is not yet come. Yesterday in an idle mood, Hunting with others in the wood, I did not pass the hours in vain, For in the very heart of all The joyous tumult raised around, Shouting of men, and baying of hound, And the bugle's blithe and cheery call, And echoes answering back again, From crags of the distant mountain chain,-- In the very heart of this, I found A mystery of grief and pain. It was an image of the power Of Satan, hunting the world about, With his nets and traps and well-trained dogs, His bishops and priests and theologues, And all the rest of the rabble rout, Seeking whom he may devour! Enough I have had of hunting hares, Enough of these hours of idle mirth, Enough of nets and traps and gins! The only hunting of any worth Is where I can pierce with javelins The cunning foxes and wolves and bears, The whole iniquitous troop of beasts, The Roman Pope and the Roman priests That sorely infest and afflict the earth! Ye nuns, ye singing birds of the air! The fowler hath caught you in his snare, And keeps you safe in his gilded cage, Singing the song that never tires, To lure down others from their nests; How ye flutter and heat your breasts, Warm and soft with young desires, Against the cruel, pitiless wires, Reclaiming your lost heritage! Behold! a hand unbars the door, Ye shall be captives held no more. The Word they shall perforce let stand, And little thanks they merit! For He is with us in the land, With gifts of his own Spirit! Though they take our life, Goods, honors, child and wife, Lot these pass away, Little gain have they; The Kingdom still remaineth! Yea, it remaineth forevermore, However Satan may rage and roar, Though often be whispers in my ears: What if thy doctrines false should be? And wrings from me a bitter sweat. Then I put him to flight with jeers, Saying: Saint Satan! pray for me; If thou thinkest I am not saved yet! And my mortal foes that lie in wait In every avenue and gate! As to that odious monk John Tetzel, Hawking about his hollow wares Like a huckster at village fairs, And those mischievous fellows, Wetzel, Campanus, Carlstadt, Martin Cellarius, And all the busy, multifarious Heretics, and disciples of Arius, Half-learned, dunce-bold, dry and hard, They are not worthy of my regard, Poor and humble as I am. But ah! Erasmus of Rotterdam, He is the vilest miscreant That ever walked this world below A Momus, making his mock and mow, At Papist and at Protestant, Sneering at St. John and St. Paul, At God and Man, at one and all; And yet as hollow and false and drear, As a cracked pitcher to the ear, And ever growing worse and worse! Whenever I pray, I pray for a curse On Erasmus, the Insincere! Philip Melanethon! thou alone Faithful among the faithless known, Thee I hail, and only thee! Behold the record of us three! Res et verba Philippus, Res sine verbis Lutherus; Erasmus verba sine re! My Philip, prayest thou for me? Lifted above all earthly care, From these high regions of the air, Among the birds that day and night Upon the branches of tall trees Sing their lauds and litanies, Praising God with all their might, My Philip, unto thee I write, My Philip! thou who knowest best All that is passing in this breast; The spiritual agonies, The inward deaths, the inward hell, And the divine new births as well, That surely follow after these, As after winter follows spring; My Philip, in the night-time sing This song of the Lord I send to thee; And I will sing it for thy sake, Until our answering voices make A glorious antiphony, And choral chant of victory!

Public domain · sourced from Project Gutenberg

Quick summary
This poem immerses us in Martin Luther's thoughts while he hides at Wartburg Castle after the Catholic Church labels him a heretic. Longfellow blends Luther's well-known hymn "A Mighty Fortress Is Our God" with a dramatic monologue, revealing Luther's faith, his anger towards his adversaries, and his close bond with Philip Melanchthon. Ultimately, the poem reads like a heartfelt letter from one reformer to another, rich with spiritual turmoil and hard-earned hope.
Themes

Line-by-line

Our God, a Tower of Strength is He, / A goodly wall and weapon;
Longfellow begins with a direct quote from Luther's hymn, *Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott* ("A Mighty Fortress Is Our God"). This choice is intentional: it allows us to hear Luther's voice through his most well-known lines before the poem transitions into a dramatic monologue. The hymn's martial imagery—walls, weapons, armor—establishes the tone of spiritual warfare that permeates the entire poem.
Oh yes; a tower of strength indeed, / A present help in all our need,
The poem's speaker adopts and enhances the hymn's language. The imagery of men walking safely over burning ploughshares and mocking the Devil recalls Old Testament miracle tales and reflects Luther's belief that God's protection is both tangible and real, rather than merely symbolic. The tone is bold and carries a sense of triumph.
Safe in this Wartburg tower I stand / Where God hath led me by the hand,
Now we find ourselves in the historical context: Luther is at Wartburg Castle, where Frederick the Wise kept him safe after the Diet of Worms in 1521. The landscape—rivers, Thuringian Woods, castles, and farms—looks remarkably peaceful and beautiful, making the abrupt turn to phrases like "mouths of Hell" and "howling demons" all the more jarring. Luther genuinely feels relief at his safety, but he is also acutely aware of how near the danger truly was.
Of our own might we nothing can; / We soon are unprotected:
Another stanza from Luther's hymn highlights human helplessness without God. The solution to that helplessness is Christ, referred to here as "Lord of Sabaoth" (Lord of Hosts, a Hebrew title for God as the commander of armies). This theological idea is key to Luther's Reformation: salvation comes solely from God, not from human effort or the workings of the Church.
Nothing can vex the Devil more / Than the name of him whom we adore.
Luther shares the joy of singing in a choir, particularly highlighting the Latin phrase *Et verbum caro factum est* — "And the Word was made flesh" (John 1:14). He views this sentence as a powerful weapon against the Devil, as it proclaims the Incarnation, which is the core mystery of Christianity. The playful and sharp contrast between the Devil's terror and the congregation's comfort stands out.
Yea, music is the Prophet's art; / Among the gifts that God hath sent,
This is one of the poem's most lyrical passages, showcasing Luther's deep and well-known love for music. The comparison to David playing the harp to calm Saul's troubled spirit (1 Samuel 16) fits perfectly: Luther faced intense depression and spiritual struggles, with music serving as a true remedy for him. Longfellow is leaning on historical fact here, rather than merely crafting poetic imagery.
This world may full of Devils be, / All ready to devour us;
Back to the hymn again, this stanza emphasizes that even a world filled with devils can't truly harm the faithful. The phrase "One little word can slay him" is well-known—in Luther's theology, that word refers to the name of Christ or the Gospel itself. The stanza carries a rallying, almost combative spirit.
Incredible it seems to some / And to myself a mystery,
Luther is astonished that regular, frail human beings, relying solely on scripture, could confront the immense authority of the Pope and the Church. The tone of the passage shifts dramatically to a polemical stance: the Pope's "diabolic crew" of priests is depicted in severe language, and the shout "Kill! kill! they cry, the Heresiarch" highlights the genuine peril Luther faced. His reply — "Not yet; my hour is not yet come" — mirrors Christ's words in the Gospels, portraying Luther as a Christ-like figure.
Yesterday in an idle mood, / Hunting with others in the wood,
This stanza draws from a real letter Luther penned while at the Wartburg. What starts as a hunting trip evolves into a powerful allegory: the hounds and nets represent Satan chasing souls through his agents — bishops, priests, and theologians. The transition from leisurely activity to intense moral outrage is abrupt and striking. Luther realizes that he's done with mere pastime; his true battleground is in theological struggle.
Ye nuns, ye singing birds of the air! / The fowler hath caught you in his snare,
The hunting metaphor also applies to nuns who find themselves confined in convents involuntarily. Luther strongly opposed the idea of enforced monasticism, and this passage showcases his heartfelt desire to release nuns and monks from vows he viewed as spiritually coercive. The imagery of birds struggling against cage wires evokes both tenderness and anger. When it states, "Behold! a hand unbars the door," it portrays Luther as a liberator.
The Word they shall perforce let stand, / And little thanks they merit!
The final stanza of the embedded hymn reassures us that even if enemies strip away everything — life, possessions, family — they still cannot take the Kingdom of God. This belief is at the core of Luther's faith, and Longfellow includes it here to provide a solid foundation before the poem delves into more personal and tumultuous themes.
Yea, it remaineth forevermore, / However Satan may rage and roar,
Luther reveals a persistent fear he keeps to himself: what if his beliefs are incorrect? This moment of vulnerability is surprisingly candid. His response is typically defiant — he sarcastically taunts the Devil, suggesting that if the Devil believes Luther isn't saved, he should pray for him. The combination of bitter sweat and mocking retort illustrates a man who combats his own fears with a dose of dark humor.
And my mortal foes that lie in wait / In every avenue and gate!
Luther lists his adversaries: John Tetzel, the indulgence-seller whose actions triggered the Reformation, and a group of radical reformers he viewed as reckless — Carlstadt, Campanus, Cellarius, and the followers of Arius. His disdain is pointed yet somewhat dismissive; he sees these men as inferior. The true harshness is reserved for the next stanza.
But ah! Erasmus of Rotterdam, / He is the vilest miscreant
Erasmus faces Luther's full wrath. The historical conflict between Luther and Erasmus over free will is well-known, and Longfellow vividly conveys Luther's anger. By branding Erasmus a "Momus" (the Greek god of mockery) and likening him to a cracked pitcher, Luther delivers insults that feel both personal and targeted. The prayer for a curse on Erasmus is startling yet rooted in history, as Luther's letters contain many similar outbursts.
Philip Melanethon! thou alone / Faithful among the faithless known,
The poem takes a dramatic turn. Philip Melanchthon, who was Luther's closest collaborator, receives a warm welcome that stands in stark contrast to everything previously stated. The Latin lines — *Res et verba Philippus* (Philip: things and words), *Res sine verbis Lutherus* (Luther: things without words), *Erasmus verba sine re* (Erasmus: words without things) — are a genuine epigram penned by Luther, and Longfellow quotes it directly. The lines are clever, reflective, and filled with affection.
My Philip, prayest thou for me? / Lifted above all earthly care,
Writing from his high tower, with the sounds of birdsong all around, Luther speaks to Melanchthon like a close friend and spiritual brother. The birds singing their "lauds and litanies" link nature to worship, easing the poem's earlier combative tone.
My Philip! thou who knowest best / All that is passing in this breast;
The poem concludes with its most intimate moment. Luther openly addresses his inner struggles: spiritual pain, personal losses, and inner turmoil — followed by the "divine new births" that emerge, akin to spring arriving after winter. He sends Melanchthon a song, envisioning their voices harmonizing in an antiphony, a conversation in music. The poem ends not with conquering foes but with camaraderie, melody, and mutual faith.

Tone & mood

The poem shifts tone dramatically, contributing to its vibrant energy. It begins with the bold confidence of a battle hymn, transitions into a sense of grateful relief, then plunges into passionate fury, dark humor, and ultimately, tender intimacy. Longfellow portrays Luther as a man of striking contradictions: one moment he’s cursing Erasmus, and the next, he's penning a heartfelt letter to Melanchthon. The overall impression is of a large, tumultuous personality held together by faith and friendship.

Symbols & metaphors

  • The Tower (Wartburg Castle)The tower operates on two levels simultaneously. On one hand, it’s the castle where Luther took refuge from his foes. On the other, it resonates with the opening hymn's portrayal of God as a tower of strength. Luther's physical safety and his spiritual refuge are intertwined—he feels secure because God is his fortress.
  • The Word"The Word" refers to both the Bible and Christ (as stated in John 1:1, "In the beginning was the Word"). For Luther, it serves as his sole weapon against the Devil, the Pope, and his personal doubts. The Latin phrase *Et verbum caro factum est* ("the Word was made flesh") captures the Word in its most intense and potent form.
  • Music and the HarpMusic embodies the Spirit's ability to soothe what logic and determination cannot. The scene of David playing his harp to ease Saul's madness parallels Luther's own use of music to combat depression and spiritual anguish. This serves as both a historical allusion and a personal admission.
  • The Hunt and the CageThe hunting trip serves two key symbols: Satan as a hunter ensnaring souls (through his agents in the Church) and nuns as trapped birds. These images depict religious coercion as predatory. Luther's choice to shift from hunting hares to pursuing the "cunning foxes and wolves" of Rome marks the beginning of his true calling.
  • Spring Following WinterIn the final stanzas, Luther depicts his spiritual journey as a cycle of death and rebirth, with "divine new births" emerging after "inward deaths," much like how spring inevitably follows winter. This metaphor connects to nature, transforming his suffering from a sense of defeat into an essential transition — and it infuses the poem's conclusion with a sense of hope that has been earned through struggle.

Historical context

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote this poem for his collection *Christus: A Mystery* (1872), which is a dramatic trilogy exploring the history of Christianity. The poem portrays Martin Luther during his ten months at Wartburg Castle (1521–1522), where he sought refuge after being condemned at the Diet of Worms. During this time, Luther translated the New Testament into German and wrote extensively. Longfellow references Luther's actual letters and writings, including the Latin epigram about Melanchthon, the hunting-trip allegory, and stanzas from *Ein feste Burg*, all of which are rooted in history. Longfellow was influenced by the American Protestantism’s deep respect for Luther, and the poem embodies both thorough research and heartfelt admiration. He wrote it in his sixties, following his wife's passing, and the themes of spiritual crisis, friendship, and endurance resonate with his personal experiences.

FAQ

This piece is a dramatic monologue that captures Martin Luther's thoughts and feelings during his time in hiding at Wartburg Castle from 1521 to 1522. Longfellow skillfully intertwines Luther's well-known hymn, his theological arguments, his animosity toward certain opponents, and his strong bond with his friend Philip Melanchthon.

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