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        Title: Lyra Germanica: The Christian Year
   Creator(s): Winkworth, Catherine
  Print Basis: London: Longman, Green, Longman, and Roberts, 1861.
       Rights: Public Domain
   LC Call no: BV355.G3 W7
  LC Subjects:

               Practical theology

               Worship (Public and Private) Including the church year, Christian
               symbols, liturgy, prayer, hymnology

               Hymnology
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                                Lyra Germanica:
                             Hymns for the Sundays
                                       &
                                Chief Festivals
                                       of
                               The Christian Year

   Translated from the German by Catherine Winkworth
   With Illustrations by and engraved under the Superintendence of
   John Leighton, F.S.A.
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   LONDON
   Longman, Green, Longman, and Roberts.
   1861.
   TO
   HIS
   EXCELLENCY
   THE
   CHEVALIER BUNSEN,
   THESE HYMNS ARE
   BY HIS KIND PERMISSION
   RESPECTFULLY
   AND GRATEFULLY
   DEDICATED
   BY THE
   TRANSLATOR.
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Preface

   The following hymns are selected from the Chevalier Bunsen's "Versuch
   eines allgemeinen Gesang und Gebetbuchs," published in 1833. From the
   large number there given, about nine hundred, little more than one
   hundred have been chosen. This selection contains many of those best
   known and loved in Germany; but in a work of this size it is impossible
   to include all that have become classical in that home of Christian
   poetry. In reading them it must be remembered that they are hymns, not
   sacred poems, though from their length and the intricacy of their
   metres, many of them may seem to English readers adapted rather to
   purposes of private than of public devotion. But the singing of hymns
   forms a much larger and more important part of public worship in the
   German Reformed Churches than in our own services. It is the mode by
   which the whole congregation is enabled to bear its part in the worship
   of God, answering in this respect to the chanting of our own liturgy.
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   Ever since the Reformation, the German Church has been remarkable for
   the number and excellence of its hymns and hymn-tunes. Before that time
   it was not so. There was no place for congregational singing in public
   worship, and therefore the spiritual songs of the latter part of the
   middle ages assumed for the most part an artificial and unpopular form.
   Yet there were not wanting germs of a national Church poetry in the
   verses rather than hymns which were sung in German on pilgrimages and
   at some of the high festivals, many of which verses were again derived
   from more ancient Latin hymns. Several of [1]Luther's hymns are
   amplifications of verses of this class, such as the Pentecostal hymn
   here given, "[2]Come, Holy Spirit, God and Lord," which is founded on a
   German version of the "Veni Sancte Spiritus, Reple." By adopting these
   verses, and retaining their well-known melodies, Luther enabled his
   hymns to spread rapidly among the common people. He also composed
   metrical versions of several of the Psalms, the Te Deum, the Ten
   Commandments, the Lord's Prayer, the Nunc Dimittis, the Da nobis Pacem,
   &c., thus enriching the people, to whom he had already given the Holy
   Scriptures in their own language, with a treasure of that sacred poetry
   which is the precious inheritance of every Christian church.
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   The hymn, "[3]In the midst of life," is one of those founded on a more
   ancient hymn, the "Media in vita" of [4]Notker, a learned Benedictine
   of St. Gall, who died in 912. He is said to have composed it while
   watching some workmen, who were building the bridge of Martinsbruck at
   the peril of their lives. It was soon set to music, and became
   universally known; indeed it was used as a battle song, until the
   custom was forbidden on account of its being supposed to exercise
   magical influences. In a German version it formed part of the service
   for the burial of the dead, as early as the thirteenth century, and is
   still preserved in an unmetrical form in the Burial Service of our own
   Church.

   The carol, "[5]From Heaven above to earth I come," is called by
   [6]Luther himself, "A Christmas child's song concerning the child
   Jesus." He wrote it for his little boy Hans, when the latter was five
   years old, and it is still sung from the dome of the Kreuzkirche in
   Dresden before day-break on the morning of Christmas Day. It refers to
   the custom, then and long afterwards prevalent in Germany, of making at
   Christmas-time representations of the manger with the infant Jesus. But
   the most famous of his hymns is the noble version of the 46th Psalm,
   "[7]A sure stronghold our God is He," which may be called the national
   hymn of his Protestant countrymen. Luther's hymns are wanting in
   harmony and correctness of metre to a degree which often makes them
   jarring to our modern ears, but they are always full of fire and
   strength, of clear Christian faith, and brave joyful trust in God.

   From his time there has been a constant succession of hymn writers in
   the German Church. [8]Paul Eber, an intimate friend of Melancthon,
   wrote for his children the hymn, "[9]Lord Jesus Christ, true Man and
   God," which soon became a favorite hymn for the dying. Hugo Grotius
   asked that it might be repeated to him in his last moments, and expired
   ere its conclusion. Another hymn of the same class is, "[10]Now hush
   your cries, and shed no tear," the "Jam moesta quiesce querela" of
   [11]Prudentius II. translated by [12]Nicholas Hermann, the pious
   precentor of Joachimsthal, a hymn long sung at every festival.
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   The terrible times of the Thirty years' War were rich in sacred poetry.
   [13]Rist, a clergyman in North Germany, who suffered much in his youth
   from mental conflicts, and in after years from plunder, pestilence, and
   all the horrors of war, used to say, "the dear cross hath pressed many
   songs out of me," and this seems to have been equally true of many of
   his contemporaries. It certainly was true of [14]Johann Hermann, the
   author of some of the most touching hymns for Passion Week, who wrote
   his sweet songs under great physical sufferings from ill health, and
   amidst the perils of war, during which he more than once esaped murder
   as by a miracle. So too the hymns of [15]Simon Dach, professor of
   poetry in the University of Koningsberg, speak of the sufferings of the
   Christian, and his longing to escape from the strife of earth to the
   peace of heaven.

   But the Christians of those days had often not only to suffer, but to
   fight for their faith, and in the hymns of [16]Altenburg and [17]von
   Löwenstern we have two that may be called battle songs of the Church.
   The former published his hymn, "[18]Fear not, O little flock, the foe,"
   in 1631, with this title: "A heart-cheering song of comfort on the
   watch word of the Evangelical Army in the battle of Leipsic, September
   5th, 1631, God with us." It was called Gustavus Adolphus's battle song,
   because the pious hero often sang it with his army; and he sang it for
   the last time immediately before the battle of Lützen. The latter, von
   Löwenstern, was the son of a saddler, but was ennobled by the Emporer,
   Ferdinand III. for his public services: he was at once a statesman,
   poet, and musician. His hymn, "[19]Christ, Thou the champion of the
   band," was a favorite of Niebuhr.

   Another favorite hymn of Niebuhr was the [20]hymn to Eternity, the
   greater part of which is of very ancient but uncertain date. It
   received its present form about the middle of the 17th century.

   Many of the hymns of [21]Paul Gerhardt belong to this period, though he
   lived until 1676, long after the conclusion of peace. He is without
   doubt the greatest of the German hymn writers, possessing loftier
   poetical genius, and a richer variety of thought and feeling than any
   other. His beautiful hymn, "[22]Commit thou all thy [griefs and] ways,"
   is already well known to us through Wesley's translation, and many
   [23]others of his are not inferior to it. He was a zealous preacher for
   several years at the Nicolai-Kirch in Berlin; whence he retired because
   he had not sufficient freedom in preaching the truth, and became
   Archdeacon of Lübben. With him culminated the elder school of German
   sacred poetry, a school distinguished by its depth and simplicity. Most
   of its hymns are either written for the high festivals and services of
   the Church, or are expressive of a simple Christian faith, ready to
   dare or suffer all things for God's sake. To this school we must refer,
   from their spirit, two hymns written a little later; the first is
   "[24]Jesus my Redeemer Lives," one of the most favorite Easter hymns,
   written by the pious [25]Electress of Brandenburgh, who founded the
   Orphan House at Oranienburg. The other, "[26]Leave God to order all thy
   ways," was written by [27]George Neumarck, Secretary to the Archives at
   Weimar. It spread rapidly among the common people, at first without the
   author's name. A baker's boy in New Brandenburgh used to sing it over
   his work, and soon the whole town and neighbourhood flocked to him to
   learn this beautiful new song.
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   In the latter half of the seventeenth century a new school was founded
   by [28]Johann Franck, and [29]Johann Scheffler, commonly called
   Angelus. The former was burgomaster of Guben in Lusatia; the latter
   physician to Ferdinand III., but in 1663 he became a Roman Catholic,
   and afterwards a priest. The pervading idea of this school is the
   longing of the soul for that intimate union with the Redeemer of the
   world, which begins with the birth of Christ in the heart, and is
   perfected after death. This longing breathes through the hymns of
   Franck given in this collection; one of them, "[30]Redeemer of the
   nations, come," is a translation of the "Veni, Redemptor gentium" of
   [31]St. Ambrose. Angelus dwells rather on the means of attaining this
   union by the sacrifice of the Self to God through the great High-priest
   of mankind, an idea expressed in his hymns with peculiar tenderness and
   sweetness. We find much of his spirit and sweetness lingering in modern
   times about the few hymns of the gifted [32]Novalis.

   The greatest poet of this school is however [33]Gerhard Tersteegen, who
   lived during the early part of the eighteenth century as a ribbon
   manufacturer at Mühlheim. His hymns have great beauty, and bespeak a
   tranquil and childlike soul filled and blessed with the contemplation
   of God. The well-known hymn of Wesley's, [34]"Lo God is here! let us
   adore," belongs to him, and in its original shape is one of the most
   beautiful he ever wrote, but is frequently met with only in a
   disfigured and mutilated form. To this school belong a large number of
   the hymns in this collection, among which those of [35]Deszler, an
   excellent philologist of Nuremburgh, and of [36]Anton Ulrich, the pious
   and learned Duke of Brunswick, are particularly good. Those of
   [37]Schmolck, the pastor of Schweidnitz, who exercised great influence
   over the hymn-writing of his day, have more simplicity than most of the
   rest, but are characterized by a curious mixture of real poetry and
   deep feeling with occasional vulgarities of expression. The defects of
   this school, which showed themselves strongly in the course of the
   eighteenth century, were a tendancy that the feeling should degenerate
   into sentimentality, and the devout dwelling of the heart on Christ's
   great sacrifice into compassion and gratitude for His physical
   sufferings,--defects which greatly disfigure many of the [38]Moravian
   hymns. In some of the hymns here translated the expression "Christi
   Wundenhöhle" occurs, which has been rendered by the blood or cross of
   Christ, as being phrases at once more scriptural and more consonant to
   our feelings. There were not wanting, however, even at this period,
   many hymns fit for good soldiers of Jesus Christ, such as "[39]Who
   seeks in weakness an excuse," and others of the same kind.
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   Germany is rich in [40]Morning and [41]Evening Hymns, and [42]Hymns for
   the Dying, of which a few are given in these translations. Among these
   is the [43]morning hymn of [44]Baron von Canitz: I was not aware until
   after translating it that it had been already published at the close of
   one volume of Dr. Arnold's sermons.

   The hymn "[45]How blest to all Thy followers, Lord, the road," was the
   favourite hymn of Schelling.

   In translating these hymns the original form has been retained, with
   the exception, that single rhymes are generally substituted for the
   double rhymes which the structure of the language renders so common in
   German poetry, but which become cloying to an English ear when
   constantly repeated; and that English double common or short metre is
   used instead of what may be called the German common metre, the same
   that we call Gay's stanza, to which it approximates closely in the
   number of syllables, while its associations in our minds are somewhat
   more solemn. In a few instances slight alterations have been made in
   the metre, when, as is the case with some excellent hymns in our own
   language, it is hardly grave and dignified enough for the poetry. These
   alterations are but slight, and seemed justifiable, since these hymns
   have been translated, not so much as specimens of German hymn-writing,
   as in the hope that these utterances of German piety which have
   comforted and strengthened the hearts of many true Christians in their
   native country, may speak to the hearts of some among us, to help and
   cheer those who must strive and suffer, and to make us feel afresh what
   a deep and true Communion of Saints exists among all the children of
   God in different Churches and lands.

   Alderley Edge,
   July 16th,
   1855
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   In the second edition a few corrections have been made
   and additional verses given in some of the hymns: a few
   among them are however still given in an abbreviated
   form, where the omitted verses appeared to be
   decidedly inferior in merit, or to contain no
   new thought. I have also exchanged the
   former version of "Ein feste Burg"
   for one, as it seems to me, much
   superior, which I owe to
   the kindness of the
   Rev. William
   Gaskell. [1]
   Nov.
   30,
   1855.
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   [1] The electronic edition includes the original in an appendix.
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First sunday in Advent

   The night is far spent, the day is at hand; let us therefore cast off
   the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light

   From the Epistle. [Rom. 13:12]

   8,4,10,10,4,10

   Hüter, wird die Nacht der Sünden

   [46]Richter. 1704.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   O Watchman, will the night of sin

   Be never past?

   O watchman, doth the tarrying day begin

   To dawn upon thy straining sight at last?

   Will it dispel

   Ere long the mists of sin wherein I dwell?


   Now all the earth is bright and glad

   With the fresh morn;

   But all my heart is cold and dark and sad;

   Sun of the soul, let me behold Thy dawn!

   Come, Jesus, Lord!

   Oh quickly come, according to Thy word!


   Do we not live in those blest days

   So long foretold,

   When Thou shouldst come to bring us light and grace?

   And yet I sit in darkness as of old,

   Pining to see

   Thy glory; but Thou still art far from me.


   Long since Thou camest for the light

   Of all men here;

   And still in me is nought but blackest night,

   Yet I am thine, Oh hasten to appear,

   Shine forth and bless

   My soul with vision of Thy righteousness!


   If thus in darkness ever left,

   Can I fulfil

   The works of light, while yet of light bereft?

   Or how discern in love and meekness still

   To follow Thee,

   And all the sinful works of darkness flee?


   The light of reason cannot give

   Light to my soul;

   Jesus alone can make me truly live,

   One glance of His can make my spirit whole,

   Arise and shine,

   O Jesus, on this longing heart of mine!


   Single and clear, not weak or blind,

   The eye must be,

   To which Thy glory shall and entrance find;

   For if Thy chosen ones would gaze on Thee,

   No earthly screen

   Between their souls and Thee must intervene.


   Jesus, do Thou mine eyes unseal,

   And let them grow

   Quick to discern whate'er thou dost reveal,

   So shall I be deliver'd from that woe,

   Blindly to stray

   Through hopeless night, while all around is day.
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Second Sunday in Advent

   Behold the fig-tree and all the trees; when they now shoot forth, ye
   see and know of your own selves that summer is now nigh at hand. So
   likewise ye, when ye see these things come to pass, know ye that the
   kingdom of God is nigh at hand.

   From the Gospel. [Mk 13:28-29]

   8,8,8,8,9,8,8,9

   Wach' auf, wach' auf du sich're Welt

   [47]Rist. 1651.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Awake, thou careless world, awake!

   The final day shall surely come;

   What Heaven hath fixed Time cannot shake,

   It cannot sweep away thy doom.

   Know, what the Lord Himself hath spoken

   Shall come at last and not delay;

   Though heaven and earth shall pass away,

   His steadfast word can ne'er be broken.


   Awake! He comes to judgment, wake!

   Sinners, behold His countanance

   In beauty terrible, and quake

   Condemned beneath His piercing glance.

   Lo! He to whom all power is given,

   Who sits at God's right hand on high,

   In fire and thunder draweth nigh,

   To judge all nations under heaven.


   Awake, thou careless world, awake!

   Who knows how soon our God shall please

   That suddenly that day should break?

   We fathom not such depths as these.

   Oh guard thee well from lust and greed;

   For as the bird is in the snare,

   Or ever of its foe aware,

   So comes that day with silent speed.


   The Lord in love delayeth long

   The final day, and grants us space

   To turn away from sin and wrong,

   And mourning seek His help and grace.

   He holdeth back that best of days,

   Until the righteous shall approve

   Their faith and hope, their constant love;

   So gentle us-ward are His ways!


   But ye, O faithful souls, shall see

   That morning rise in love and joy;

   Your Saviour comes to set you free,

   Your Judge shall all your bonds destroy:

   He, the true Joshua, then shall bring

   His people with a mighty hand

   Into their promised father-land,

   Where songs of victory they shall sing.


   Rejoice! The fig-tree shows her green,

   The sprining year is in its prime,

   The little flowers afresh are seen,

   We gather strength in this great time;

   The glorious summer draweth near,

   When all this body's earthly load,

   In light that morning sheds abroad,

   Shall wax as sunshine pure and clear.


   Arise, and let us day and night

   Pray in the Spirit ceaselessly,

   That we may heed our Lord aright,

   And ever in His presence be;

   Arise, and let us haste to meet

   The Bridegroom standing at the door,

   That with the angels evermore

   We too may worship at His feet.
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Third Sunday in Advent

   And it shall be said in that day, Lo, this is our God; we have waited
   for Him, and He will save us: this is the Lord; we have waited for Him,
   we will be glad and rejoice in His salvation.

   From the Lesson. [Is. 25:9]

   8,6,8,6

   Wie soll ich dich empfangen

   [48]Paul Gerhardt. 1653.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   How shall I meet Thee? How my heart

   Receive her Lord aright?

   Desire of all the earth Thou art!

   My hope, my sole delight!

   Kindle the Lamp, Thou Lord, alone,

   Half-dying in my breast,

   And make thy gracious pleasure known

   How I may greet Thee best.


   Her budding boughs and fairest palms

   Thy Zion strews around;

   And songs of praise and sweetest psalms

   From my glad heart shall sound.

   My desert soul breaks forth in flowers,

   Rejoicing in Thy fame;

   And puts forth all her sleeping powers,

   To honour Jesus' name.


   In heavy bonds I languished long,

   Thou com'st to set me free;

   The scorn of every mocking tongue--

   Thou com'st to honour me.

   A heavenly crown wilt Thou bestow,

   And gifts of priceless worth,

   That vanish not as here below,

   The fading wealth of earth.


   Nought, nought, dear Lord, had power to move

   Thee from Thy rightful place,

   Save that most strange and blessed Love

   Wherewith Thou dost embrace

   This weary world and all her woe,

   Her load of grief and ill

   And sorrow, more than man can know;--

   Thy love is deeper still.


   Oh write this promise in your hearts,

   Ye sorrowful, on whom

   Fall thickening cares, while joy departs

   And darker grows your gloom.

   Despair not, for your help is near,

   He standeth at the door

   Who best can comfort you and cheer,

   He comes, nor stayeth more.


   Nor vex your souls with care, nor grieve

   And labour longer thus,

   As though your arm could ought achieve,

   And bring Him down to us.

   He comes, He comes with ready will,

   By pity moved alone,

   To soothe our every grief and ill,

   For all to Him is known.


   Nor ye, O sinners, shrink aside,

   Afraid to see His face,

   Your darkest sins our Lord will hide

   Beneath His pitying grace.

   He comes, He comes to save from sin,

   And all its pangs assuage,

   And for the sons of God to win

   Their proper heritage.


   Why heed ye then the craft and noise,

   The fury of His foes?

   Lo, in a breath the Lord destroys

   All who His rule oppose.

   He comes, He comes, as King to reign!

   All earthly powers may band

   Against Him, yet they strive in vain,

   His might may none withstand.


   He comes to judge the earth, and ye

   Who mocked Him, feel His wrath;

   But they who loved and sought Him see

   His light o'er all their path.

   O Sun of Righteousness! arise,

   And guide us on our way

   To yon fair mansion in the skies

   Of joyous cloudless day.
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Fourth Sunday in Advent

   Rejoice in the Lord alway, and again I say, Rejoice. The Lord is at
   hand.

   From the epistle. [Philip. 4:4]

   8,8,8,8,8,8,6,8

   Macht hoch die Thür, die Thor macht

   [49]Weiszel. 1635.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Lift up your heads, ye mighty gates,

   Behold the King of glory waits,

   The King of kings is drawing near,

   The Saviour of the world is here;

   Life and salvation doth He bring,

   Wherefore rejoice, and gladly sing

   Praise, O my God, to Thee!

   Creator, wise is Thy decree!


   The Lord is just, a helper tried,

   Mercy is ever at His side,

   His kingly crown is holiness,

   His sceptre, pity in distress,

   The end of all our woe He brings;

   Wherefore the earth is glad and sings

   Praise, O my God, to Thee!

   O Saviour, great Thy deeds shall be!


   Oh, blest the land, the city blest,

   Where Christ the ruler is confessed!

   Oh, happy hearts and happy homes

   To whom this King in triumph comes!

   The cloudless Sun of joy He is,

   Who bringeth pure delight and bliss;

   Praise, O my God, to Thee!

   Comforter, for Thy comfort free!


   Fling wide the portals of your heart,

   Make it a temple set apart

   From earthly use for Heaven's employ,

   Adorned with prayer, and love, and joy;

   So shall your Sovereign enter in,

   And new and nobler life begin.

   Praise, O my God, be Thine,

   For word, and deed, and grace divine.


   Redeemer, come! I open wide

   My heart to Thee, here, Lord, abide!

   Let me Thy inner presence feel,

   Thy grace and love in me reveal,

   Thy Holy Spirit guide us on

   Until our glorious goal is won!

   Eternal praise and fame,

   Be offered, Saviour, to Thy Name!
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Christmas Eve

   Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all
   people.

   Luke 2:10.

   8,8,8,8

   Von Himmel hoch da komm ich her

   [50]Luther

   Written for his little son Hans.
   1540

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   From Heaven above to earth I come

   To bear good news to every home;

   Glad tidings of great joy I bring

   Whereof I now will say and sing:


   To you this night is born a child

   Of Mary, chosen mother mild;

   This little child, of lowly birth,

   Shall be the joy of all your earth.


   'Tis Christ our God who far on high

   Hath heard your sad and bitter cry;

   Himself will your Salvation be,

   Himself from sin will make you free.


   He brings those blessings, long ago

   Prepared by God for all below;

   Henceforth His kingdom open stands

   To you, as to the angel bands.


   These are the tokens ye shall mark,

   The swaddling clothes and manger dark;

   There shall ye find the young child laid,

   By whom the heavens and earth were made.


   Now let us all with gladsome cheer

   Follow the shepherds, and draw near

   To see this wondrous gift of God

   Who hath His only Son bestowed.


   Give heed, my heart, lift up thine eyes!

   Who is it in yon manger lies?

   Who is this child so young and fair?

   The blessed Christ-child lieth there.


   Welcome to earth, Thou noble guest,

   Through whom e'en wicked men are blest!

   Thou com'st to share our misery,

   What can we render, Lord, to Thee!


   Ah, Lord, who hast created all,

   How hast Thou made Thee weak and small,

   That Thou must choose Thy infant bed

   Where ass and ox but lately fed!


   Were earth a thousand times as fair,

   Beset with gold and jewels rare,

   She yet were far too poor to be

   A narrow cradle, Lord, for Thee.


   For velvets soft and silken stuff

   Thou hast but hay and straw so rough,

   Whereon Thou King, so rich and great,

   As 'twere Thy heaven, art throned in state.


   Thus hath it pleased Thee to make plain

   The truth to us poor fools and vain,

   That this world's honour, wealth and might

   Are nought and worthless in Thy sight.


   Ah! dearest Jesus, Holy Child,

   Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled,

   Within my heart, that it may be

   A quiet chamber kept for Thee.


   My heart for very joy doth leap,

   My lips no more can silence keep;

   I too must sing with joyful tongue

   That sweetest ancient cradle-song-


   Glory to God in highest Heaven,

   Who unto man His Son hath given!

   While angels sing with pious mirth

   A glad New Year to all the earth.
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Xmas Day

   And the word was made flesh, and dwelt among us.

   From the Gospel. [Jn. 1:14]

   6,6,8,6

   Du wesentliches Wort

   [51]Laurenti. 1700.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   O Thou essential Word,

   Who from eternity

   Didst dwell with God, for thou wast God,

   Who art ordained to be

   The Saviour of our race;

   Welcome indeed Thou art,

   Blessed Redeemer, Fount of Grace,

   To this my longing heart!


   Come, self-existant Word,

   And speak within my heart,

   That from the soul where Thou art heard

   Thy peace may ne'er depart.

   Thou Light that lightenest all,

   Abide through faith in me,

   And let me never from Thee fall,

   And seek no guide but Thee.


   Why didst Thou leave Thy throne,

   O Jesus, what could bring

   Thee to a world where e'en Thine own

   Knew not their rightful King?

   Thy love beyond all thought

   Stronger than Death or Hell,

   And my deep woe, this wonder wrought,

   That Thou on earth dost dwell.


   Then help me, Lord, to give

   My whole heart unto Thee,

   That all my life while here I live

   One song of praise may be.

   Yes, Jesus, form anew

   This stony heart of mine,

   And let it e'en in death be true

   To Thee, for ever Thine.


   Let nought be left within

   But cometh of Thy hand;

   Root quickly out the weeds of sin,

   My cunning foe withstand.

   From Thee comes nothing ill,

   'Tis he doth sow the tares;

   Make plain my path before me still,

   And save me from his snares.


   Thou art the Life, O Lord!

   Sole Light of Life Thou art!

   Let not Thy glorious rays be poured

   In vain on my dark heart.

   Star of the East, arise!

   Drive all my clouds away,

   Guide me till earth's dim twilight dies

   Into the perfect day!
     __________________________________________________________________

St. Stephen's Day

   And Stephen, full of faith and power, did great wonders and miracles
   among the people. . . . Then they stirred up the people. . . . and
   caught him, and set up false witnesses against him.

   From the Lesson. [Acts 7:8-11]

   8,8,6,8,8,6

   Verzage nicht du Haüflein klein

   [52]Altenburg

   Gustavus Adolphus' Battle-song. 1631.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Fear not, O little flock, the foe

   Who madly seeks your overthrow,

   Dread not his rage and power:

   What though your courage sometimes faints,

   His seeming triumph o'er God's saints

   Lasts but one little hour.


   Be of good cheer; your cause belongs

   To Him who can avenge your wrongs,

   Leave it to Him our Lord.

   Though hidden yet from all our eyes,

   He sees the Gideon who shall rise

   To save us, and His word.


   As true as God's own word is true,

   Nor earth nor hell with all their crew

   Against us shall prevail.

   A jest and by-word are they grown;

   God is with us, we are His own,

   Our victory cannot fail.


   Amen, Lord Jesus, grant our prayer!

   Great Captain, now Thine arm make bare;

   Fight for us once again!

   So shall Thy saints and martyrs raise

   A mighty chorus to Thy praise,

   World without end. Amen.
     __________________________________________________________________

Saint John the Evangelist

   If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? Follow thou
   me.

   From the Gospel. [Jn. 21:22]

   8,8,8,8,9,9,8,8,8,8

   Lebst du in mir o wahres Leben

   [53]Sinold. 1710.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   If Thou, True Life, wilt in me live,

   Consume whate'er is not of Thee;

   One look of Thine more joy can give

   Than all the world can offer me.

   O Jesus, be Thou mine for ever,

   Nought from thy love my heart can sever,

   As Thou hast promised in Thy Word;

   Oh deep the joy whereof I drink,

   Whene'er my soul in Thee can sink,

   And own her Bridegroom and her Lord!


   O Heart, that glowed with love and died,

   Kindle my soul with fire divine;

   Lord, in the heart Thou'st won, abide,

   And all in it that is not Thine

   Oh let me conquer and destroy,

   Strong in Thy love, Thou Fount of Joy,

   Nay, be Thou conqueror, Lord, in me;

   So shall I triumph o'er despair,

   O'er death itself Thy victory share,

   Thus suffer, live, and die in Thee.


   And let the fire within me move

   My heart to serve Thy members here;

   Let me their need and trials prove,

   That I may know my love sincere

   And like to Thine, Lord, pure and warm;

   For when my soul hath won that form

   Is likest to Thy holy mind,

   Then I shall love both friends and foes,

   And learn to grieve o'er others' woes,

   Like Thee, my Pattern, true and kind.


   The light and strength of Faith, oh grant,

   That I may bring forth holy fruit,

   A living branch, a blooming plant,

   Fast clinging to my vine--my root:

   Thou art my Saviour, whom I trust,

   My Rock,--I build not on the dust,--

   The ground of faith, eternal, sure.

   When hours of doubt o'ercloud my mind,

   Thy ready help then let me find,

   Thy strength my sickening spirit cure!


   And grant that Hope may never fail,

   But anchored safely on Thy cross,

   Through Thee who art mine All, prevail

   O'er every anguish, dread, and loss.

   The world may build on what decays,

   O Christ, my Sun of Hope, my gaze

   Cares not o'er lesser lights to range;

   To Thee in love I ever cleave,

   For well I know Thou ne'er wilt leave

   My soul,--Thy love can never change.


   Wouldst Thou that I should tarry here,

   I live because Thou willest it;

   Or Death should suddenly appear,

   I shall not fear him, Lord, one whit,

   If but Thy life still in me live,

   If but Thy death my strength shall give,

   When earthly life draws near its end;

   To Thee I give away my will,

   In life and death remembering still

   Thou wilt my good, O truest Friend.
     __________________________________________________________________

Innocents Day

   Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not
   enter into the kingdom of Heaven.

   Matt. 18:3

   8,8,8,8

   O liebe Seele könnt'st du werden

   [54]Gerhard Tersteegen. 1731.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Dear Soul, couldst thou become a child

   While yet on earth, meek, undefiled,

   Then God Himself were ever near,

   And Paradise around thee here.


   A child cares nought for gold or treasure,

   Nor fame nor glory yield him pleasure;

   In perfect trust, he asketh not

   If rich or poor shall be his lot.


   Little he recks of dignity,

   Nor prince nor monarch feareth he;

   Strange that a child so weak and small

   Is oft the boldest of us all!


   He hath not skill to utter lies,

   His very soul is in his eyes;

   Single his aim in all, and true,

   And apt to praise what others do.


   No questions dark his spirit vex,

   No faithless doubts his soul perplex,

   Simply from day to day he lives,

   Content with that the present gives.


   Scarce can he stand alone, far less

   Would roam abroad in loneliness;

   Fast clinging to his mother still,

   She bears and leads him at her will.


   He will not stay to pause and choose,

   His father's guidance e'er refuse,

   Thinks not of danger, fears no harm,

   Wrapt in obedience' holy calm.


   For strange concerns he careth nought;

   What others do, although were wrought

   Before his eyes the worst offence,

   Stains not his tranquil innocence.


   His dearest work, his best delight,

   Is, lying in his mother's sight,

   To gaze for ever on her face,

   And nestle in her fond embrace.


   O childhood's innocence! the voice

   Of thy deep wisdom is my choice!

   Who hath thy lore is truly wise,

   And precious in our Father's eyes.


   Spirit of childhood! loved of God,

   By Jesu's Spirit now bestowed!

   How often have I longed for thee;

   O Jesus, form Thyself in me!


   And help me to become a child

   While yet on earth, meek, undefiled,

   That I may find God always near,

   And Paradise around me here.
     __________________________________________________________________

Emmanuel
Sunday after Christmas-day.

   Behold, a Virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and
   they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with
   us.

   From the Gospel. [Matt. 1:23]

   8,8,8,8

   Wir singen dir Immanuel

   [55]Paul Gerhardt. 1650.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Thee, O Immanuel, we praise,

   The Prince of Life, and Fount of Grace,

   The Morning Star, the Heavenly Flower,

   The Virgin's Son, the Lord of Power.


   With all Thy saints, Thee, Lord, we sing,

   Praise, honour, thanks to Thee we bring,

   That Thou, O long-expected guest,

   Hast come at last to make us blest!


   Since first the world began to be,

   How many a heart hath longed for Thee;

   Long years our fathers hoped of old

   Their eyes might yet Thy Light behold:


   The prophets cried; "Ah, would He came

   To break the fetters of our shame;

   That help from Zion came to men,

   Israel were glad, and prospered then!"


   Now art Thou here; we know Thee now,

   In lowly manger liest Thou;

   A child, yet makest all things great,

   Poor, yet is earth Thy robe of state.


   From Thee alone all gladness flows,

   Who yet shalt bear such bitter woes;

   Earth's light and comfort Thou shalt be,

   Yet none shall watch to comfort Thee.


   All heavens are Thine, yet Thou didst come

   To sojourn in a stranger's home;

   Thou hangest on Thy mother's breast

   Who art the joy of spirits blest.


   Now fearless I can look on Thee,

   From sin and grief Thou sett'st me free;

   Thou bearest wrath, Thou conquerest Death,

   Fear turns to joy Thy glance beneath.


   Thou art my Head, my Lord Divine,

   I am Thy member, wholly Thine,

   And in Thy Spirit's strength would still

   Serve Thee according to Thy will.


   Thus will I sing Thy praises here

   With joyful spirit year by year;

   And they shall sound before Thy throne,

   Where time nor number more are known.
     __________________________________________________________________

The Circumcision of Christ:
A Hymn for New Year's Day.

   So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto
   wisdom.

   Psalm 90:12.

   8,8,8,8,8,8,8

   O Ewigkeit, o Ewigkeit

   [56]Wülffer. 1648.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   And yet to thee Time hastes away,

   Like as the warhorse to the fray,

   Or swift as couriers homeward go,

   Or ship to port, or shaft from bow.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   For ever as on a perfect sphere

   End nor beginning can appear,

   Even so, Eternity, in thee

   Entrance nor exit can there be.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   A circle infinite art thou,

   Thy centre an Eternal Now,

   Never, we name thy outer bound,

   For never end therein is found.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   A little bird with fretting beak

   Might wear to nought the loftiest peak,

   Though but each thousand years it came,

   Yet thou wert then, as now, the same.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   As long as God is God, so long

   Endure the pains of sin and wrong,

   So long the joys of heaven remain;

   Oh lasting joy, Oh lasting pain!

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   O man, full oft thy thoughts should dwell

   Upon the pains of sin and hell,

   And on the glories of the pure,

   That both beyond all time endure.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   How terrible art thou in woe,

   How fair where joys for ever glow!

   God's goodness sheddeth gladness here,

   His justice there wakes bitter fear.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   They who lived poor and naked rest

   With God, for ever rich and blest,

   And love and praise the Highest Good,

   In perfect bliss and gladsome mood.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   A moment lasts all joy below,

   Whereby man sinks to endless woe,

   A moment lasts all earthly pain,

   Whereby an endless joy we gain.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   Who ponders oft on thee, is wise,

   All fleshly lusts will he despise,

   The world finds place with him no more;

   The love of vain delights is o'er.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   Who marks thee well would say to God,

   Here judge, burn, smite me with Thy rod,

   Here let me all Thy justice bear,

   When time of grace is past, then spare!

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   Lo, I, Eternity, warn thee,

   O Man, that oft thou think on me,

   The sinner's punishment and pain,

   To them who love their God, rich gain!

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!
     __________________________________________________________________

The Adoration of the Magi.
Epiphany.

   Arise, shine, for thy light has come, and the glory of the Lord is
   risen upon thee!

   From the Lesson. [Is. 60:1]

   7,7,7,7,7,7

   Werde Licht du Stadt der Heiden

   [57]Rist. 1655.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   All ye Gentile lands awake!

   Thou, O Salem, rise and shine!

   See the day spring o'er you break,

   Heralding a morn divine,

   Telling, God hath called to mind

   Those who long in darkness pined.


   Lo! the shadows flee away,

   For our Light is come at length,

   Brighter than all earthly day,

   Source of being, life, and strength!

   Whoso on this Light would gaze

   Must forsake all evil ways.


   Ah how blindly did we stray

   Ere shone forth this glorious Sun,

   Seeking each his separate way,

   Leaving Heaven, unsought, unwon;

   All our looks were earthward bent,

   All our strength on earth was spent.


   Earthly were our thoughts and low,

   In the toils of Folly caught,

   Tossed of Satan to and fro,

   Counting goodness all for nought!

   By the world and flesh deceived,

   Heaven's true joys we disbelieved.


   Then were hidden from our eyes

   All the law and grace of God;

   Rich and poor, the fools and wise,

   Wanting light to find the road

   Leading to the heavenly life,

   Wandered lost in care and strife.


   But the glory of the Lord

   Hath arisen on us today,

   We have seen the light outpoured

   That must surely drive away

   All things that to night belong,

   All the sad earth's woe and wrong.


   Thy arising, Lord, shall fill

   All my thoughts in sorrow's hour;

   Thy arising, Lord, shall still

   All my dread of Death's dark power:

   Through my smiles and through my tears

   Still Thy light, O Lord, appears.


   Let me, Lord, in peace depart

   From this evil world to Thee;

   Where Thyself sole Brightness art,

   Thou hast kept a place for me:

   In the shining city there

   Crowns of light Thy saints shall wear.
     __________________________________________________________________

First Sunday After Epiphany.

   I beseech you, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your
   bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your
   reasonable service.

   From the Epistle. [Rom. 12:1]

   7,7,7,7

   Höchster Priester, der du dich

   [58]Angelus. 1657.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Great High-priest, who deign'dst to be

   Once the sacrifice for me,

   Take this living heart of mine,

   Lay it on Thy holy shrine.


   Love I know accepteth nought,

   Save what Thou, O Love, hast wrought;

   Offer Thou my sacrifice,

   Else to God it cannot rise.


   Slay in me the wayward will,

   Earthly sense and passions kill,

   Tear self-love from out my heart,

   Though it cost me bitter smart.


   Kindle, Mighty Love, the pyre,

   Quick consume me in Thy fire,

   Fain were I of self bereft,

   Nought but Thee within me left.


   So may God, the Righteous, brook

   On my sacrifice to look;

   In whose sight no gift has worth

   Save a Christ-like life on earth.
     __________________________________________________________________

Second Sunday after Epiphany.

   Lift up your eyes unto the heavens, and look upon the earth beneath;
   for the heavens shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth shall wax
   old like a garment, and the people that dwell therein shall die in like
   manner; but my salvation shall be for ever, and my righteousness shall
   not be abolished.

   From the Lesson. [Is. 51:6]

   5,8,8,8,8,8,7,7,7,7

   Gott lebet noch

   [59]Zihn. 1682.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   Our God is good, in every place

   His love is known, His help is found,

   His mighty arm, and tender grace

   Bring good from ills that hem us round,

   Easier than we think can He

   Turn to joy our agony;

   Soul, remember 'mid thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   Say, shall He slumber, shall He sleep,

   Who gave the eye its power to see?

   Shall He not hear His children weep

   Who made the ear so wondrously?

   God is God; He sees and hears

   All their troubles, all their tears.

   Soul, forget not 'mid thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   He who can earth and heaven control,

   Who spreads the clouds o'er sea and land,

   Whose presence fills the mighty Whole,

   In each true heart is close at hand;

   Love Him, He will surely send

   Help and joy that never end.

   Soul, remember in thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   Scarce canst thou bear thy cross? Then fly

   To Him where only rest is sweet;

   Thy God is great, His mercy nigh,

   His strength upholds the tottering feet;

   Trust Him, for His grace is sure,

   Ever doth His truth endure;

   Soul, forget not in thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   When sins and follies long forgot

   Upon thy tortured conscience prey,

   Oh come to God, and fear Him not,

   His love shall sweep them all away;

   Pains of hell at look of His,

   Change to calm content and bliss.

   Soul, remember in thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   Those whom the thoughtless world forsakes,

   Who stand bewildered with their woe,

   God gently to his bosom takes,

   And bids them all His fulness know;

   In thy sorrows' swelling flood

   Own his hand who seeks thy good.

   Soul, forget not in thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   Let earth and heaven outworn with age,

   Sink to the chaos whence they came;

   Let angry foes against us rage,

   Let hell shoot forth his fiercest flame;

   Fear not Death, nor Satan's thrusts,

   God defends who in Him trusts;

   Soul, remember in thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   What though thou tread with bleeding feet

   A thorny path of grief and gloom,

   Thy God will choose the way most meet

   To lead thee heavenwards, lead thee home.

   For this life's long night of sadness

   He will give thee peace and gladness;

   Soul, remember in thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.
     __________________________________________________________________

Third Sunday after Epiphany.

   For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven; and returneth
   not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud,
   that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater; so shall my
   word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me
   void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper
   in the thing whereto I sent it.

   From the Lesson. [Is. 55:10]

   8,8,8,6,4,4,8,8

   Dein Wort, O Herr, ist milder Thau

   [60]Anon.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Thy Word, O Lord, like gentle dews,

   Falls soft on hearts that pine;

   Lord, to Thy garden ne'er refuse

   This heavenly balm of Thine.

   Watered from Thee

   Let every tree

   Bud forth and blossom to Thy praise,

   And bear much fruit in after days.


   Thy word is like a flaming sword,

   A wedge that cleaveth stone;

   Keen as a fire so burns Thy Word,

   And pierceth flesh and bone.

   Oh send it forth

   O'er all the earth,

   To shatter all the might of sin,

   The darkened heart to cleanse and win.


   Thy word a wondrous guiding star,

   On pilgrim hearts doth rise,

   Leads to their Lord who dwell afar,

   And makes the simple wise.

   Let not its light

   E'er sink in night,

   But still in every spirit shine,

   That none may miss Thy light divine.
     __________________________________________________________________

Fourth Sunday After Epiphany.

   And he said unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? Then
   He arose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm.

   From the Gospel. [Matt. 8:26]

   8,6,8,6

   Hier lieg' ich, Herr, im Staube

   [61]Drewes. 1797.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   My god, lo, here before Thy face

   I cast me in the dust;

   Where is the hope of happier days,

   Where is my wonted trust?

   Where are the sunny hours I had

   Ere of Thy light bereft?

   Vanished is all that made me glad,

   My pain alone is left.


   I shrink with fear and sore alarm

   When threatening ills I see,

   As though in time of need Thine arm

   No more could shelter me;

   As though Thou couldst not see the grief

   That makes my courage quail,

   As thou Thou wouldst not send relief,

   When human helpers fail.


   Cannot Thy might avert e'en now

   What seems my certain doom,

   And still with light and succour bow

   To him who weeps in gloom?

   Art Thou not evermore the same?

   And hast not Thou revealed

   That Thou wilt be our strength, Thy Name

   Our tower of hope, our shield?


   O Father, compass me about

   With love, for I am weak;

   Forgive, forgive my sinful doubt,

   Thy pitying glance I seek;

   For torn and anguished is my heart,

   Thou seest it, my God,

   Oh soothe my conscience' bitter smart,

   Lift off my sorrows' load.


   I know that I am in Thy hands,

   Whose thoughts are peace toward me,

   That ever sure thy counsel stands,--

   Could I but build on Thee!

   I know that Thou wilt give me all

   That Thou has promised, Lord,

   Here will I cling, nor yield, nor fall,

   I live but by Thy Word.


   Though mountains crumble into dust,

   Thy covenant standeth fast;

   Who follows Thee in pious trust

   Shall reach the goal at last.

   Though strange and winding seem the way

   While yet on earth I dwell,

   In heaven my heart shall gladly say,

   Thou, God, dost all things well!


   Take courage then, my soul, nor steep

   Thy days and nights in tears,

   That soon shalt cease to mourn and weep,

   Thou dark are now thy fears.

   He comes, He comes, the Strong to save,

   He comes nor tarries more,

   His light is breaking o'er the wave,

   The clouds and storms are o'er!
     __________________________________________________________________

Fifth Sunday After Epiphany

   Oh that Thou wouldst rend the heavens, that Thou wouldst come down,
   that the mountains might flow down at Thy presence . . . To make Thy
   name known to Thine adversaries, that the nations may tremble at Thy
   presence.

   From the Lesson. [Is. 64:1-2]

   8,10,8,10,10,10

   Wach auf, du Geist der ersten Zeugen

   [62]Bogatsky. 1727.

   after [63]A. H. Franke (1663-1727).

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Awake, Thou Spirit, who of old

   Didst fire the watchmen of the Church's youth,

   Who faced the foe, unshrinking, bold,

   Who witnessed day and night the eternal truth,

   Whose voices through the world are ringing still,

   And bringing hosts to know and do Thy will!


   Oh that thy fire were kindled soon,

   That swift from land to land its flame might leap!

   Lord, give us but this priceless boon

   Of faithful servants, fit for Thee to reap

   The harvest of the soul; look down and view

   How great the harvest, yet the labourers few.


   Lord, let our earnest prayer be heard,

   The prayer Thy son Himself hath bid us pray;

   For, lo! Thy children's hearts are stirred

   In every land in this our darkening day,

   To cry for help with fervent soul to Thee;

   Oh hear us, Lord, and speak, Thus let it be!


   O haste to help ere we are lost!

   Send forth evangelist, in spirit strong,

   Armed with Thy Word, a dauntless host,

   Bold to attack the rule of ancient wrong,

   And let them all the earth for Thee reclaim,

   To be Thy kingdom, and to know Thy name.


   Would there were help within our walls!

   Oh let thy promised Spirit come again,

   Before whom every barrier falls,

   And ere the night once more shine forth as then!

   Oh rend the heavens and make Thy presence felt,

   The chains tha tbind us at Thy touch would melt!


   And let Thy Word have speedy course,

   Through every land the truth be glorified,

   Till all the heathen know its force,

   And gather to Thy churches far and wide;

   And waken Israel from her sleep, O Lord!

   Thus bless and spread the conquests of Thy Word!


   The Church's deserts paths restore,

   That stumbling blocks which long in them have lain,

   May hinder now Thy Word no more;

   Destroy false doctrine, root out notions vain,

   Set free from hirelings, let the Church and school

   Bloom as a garden 'neath Thy prospering rule!
     __________________________________________________________________

Sixth Sunday after Epiphany.

   Every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself even as he is
   pure.

   From the Epistle. [1 Jn. 3:3]

   8,8,8,8

   O reines Wesen, lautre Quelle

   [64]Freylinghausen. 1713.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Pure essence! Spotless Fount of Light,

   That fadeth never into dark!

   O Thou, whose eyes more clear and bright

   Than noonday sun are quick to mark

   Our sins; lo, bare before Thy face

   Lies all the desert of my heart,

   My once fair soul in every part

   Now stained with evil foul and base.


   Since but the pure in heart are blest

   With promised vision of their God,

   Sore fear and anguish fill my breast,

   Rememb'ring all the ways I trod;

   Mourning I see my lost estate,

   And yet in faith I dare to cry,

   Oh let my evil nature die,

   Another heart in me create!


   Enough, Lord, that my foe too well

   Hath lured me once away from Thee;

   Henceforth I know his craft how fell,

   And all his deep-laid snares I flee.

   Lord, through the Spirit whom Thy Son

   Hath bidden us in prayer to ask,

   Arm us with might that every task,

   Whate'er we do, in Thee be done.


   Unworthy am I of Thy grace,

   So deep are my transgressions, Lord,

   And yet once more I seek Thy face;

   My God, have mercy, nor reward

   My sins and follies, dark and vain;

   Reject, reject me not in wrath,

   But let Thy sunshine now beam forth,

   And quicken me with hope again.


   The Holy Spirit Thou hast given,

   The wondrous pledge of love divine,

   Who fills our hearts with joys of heaven,

   And bids us earthly joys resign;

   Oh let His seal be on my heart,

   Oh take Him nevermore away,

   Until this fleshly house decay,

   And Thou shlt bid me hence depart.


   But ah! my coward spirit droops,

   Sick with the fear that enters in

   Whene'er a soul to bondage stoops,

   And wears the shameful yoke of sin;

   Oh quicken with the strength that flows

   From out the Eternal Fount of Life,

   My soul half-fainting in the strife,

   And make an end of all my woes.


   I cling unto Thy grace alone,

   Thy steadfast oath my only rest;

   To Thee, Heart-searcher, all is known

   That lieth hidden in my breast;

   Thy joy, O Spirit, on me pour,

   Thy fervent will my sloth inspire,

   So shall I have my heart's desire,

   And serve and praise Thee evermore.
     __________________________________________________________________

Septuagesima Sunday.

   I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that
   beateth the air.

   From the Epistle. [1 Cor. 9:26]

   7,7,7,7

   Ringe recht wenn Gottes Gnade

   [65]Winkler. 1703.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Strive when thou art called of God,

   When He draws thee by his grace,

   Strive to cast away the load

   That would clog thee in the race!


   Fight, though it may cost thy life;

   Storm the kingdom, but prevail;

   Let not Satan's fiercest strife

   Make thee, warrior, faint or quail.


   Wrestle, till through every vein

   Love and strength are glowing warm,

   Love that can the world disdain,

   Half-love will not abide the storm.


   Wrestle with strong prayers and cries,

   Think no time too much to spend,

   Though the night be passed in sighs.

   Though all day thy voice ascend.


   Hast thou won the pearl of price,

   Think not thou hast reached the goal,

   Conquered every sin and vice

   That had power to harm thy soul.


   Gaze with mingled joy and fear,

   On the refuge thou hast found;

   Know, while yet we linger here

   Perils ever hem us round.


   Art thou faithful? then oppose

   Sin and wrong with all thy might;

   Care not how the tempest blows,

   Only care to win the fight.


   Art thou faithful? Wake and watch,

   Love with all thy heart Christ's ways,

   Seek not transient ease to snatch,

   Look not for reward or praise.


   Art thou faithful? Stand apart

   From all all worldly hope and pleasure,

   Yonder fix thy hopes and heart,

   On the heaven where lies our treasure.


   Soldiers of the Cross, be strong,

   Watch and war 'mid fear and pain,

   Daily conquering woe and wrong,

   Till our King o'er earth shall reign!
     __________________________________________________________________

Sexagesima Sunday

   Let them praise the name of the Lord for His name alone is excellent;
   His glory is above the earth and heaven.

   Psalm 148:13

   7,7,7,7

   Keine Schönheit hat die Welt

   [66]Angelus. 1657.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Nothing fair on earth I see

   But I straightway think on Thee;

   Thou art fairest in mine eyes,

   Source in whom all beauty lies!


   When the golden sun forth goes,

   And the east before him glows,

   Quickly turns this heart of mine

   To Thy heavenly form divine.


   On Thy light I think at morn,

   With the earliest break of dawn;

   Ah, what glories lie in Thee,

   Light of all Eternity!


   When I watch the moon arise

   'Mid Heaven's thousand golden eyes,

   Then I think, more glorious far

   Is the Maker of yon star.


   Or I cry in spring's sweet hours,

   When the fields are gay with flowers,

   As their varied hues I see,

   What must their Creator be!


   When along the brook I wander,

   Or beside the fountain ponder,

   Straight my thoughts take wing and mount

   Up to Thee, the purest fount!


   Sweetly sings the nightingale,

   Sweet the flute's soft plaintive tale,

   Sweeter than their richest tone,

   Is the name of Mary's Son.


   Sweetly all the air is stirred

   When the Echo's call is heard;

   But no sounds my heart rejoice

   Like to my Beloved's voice.


   Come then, fairest Lord, appear,

   Come, let me behold Thee here,

   I would see Thee face to face,

   On Thy proper light would gaze.


   Take away these veils that blind,

   Jesus, all my soul and mind;

   Henceforth ever let my heart

   See Thee truly as Thou art!
     __________________________________________________________________

Quinquagesima Sunday.

   And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of
   these is charity.

   From the Epistle. [1 Cor. 13:13]

   8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8

   Unter jenen grossen Gütern

   [67]Ernst Lange. 1711.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Many a gift did Christ impart,

   Noblest of them all is Love,

   Love, a balm within the heart

   That can all its pains remove;

   Love, a star most bright and pure;

   Love, a gem of priceless worth,

   Richer than man knows on earth;

   Love, like beauty, strong to lure;

   Love, like joy, makes man her thrall,

   Strong to please and conquer all.


   Love can give us all things; here

   Use and beauty cannot sever;

   Love can raise us to that sphere

   Whence the soul tends heavenwards ever;

   Though one speak with angel tongues

   Bravest words of strength and fire,

   If no love his heart inspire,

   They are but as fleeting songs;

   All his eloquence shall pass,

   As the noise of sounding brass.


   Science with her keen-eyed glance,

   All the wisdom of the world,

   Mysteries that the soul entrance,

   Faith that mighty hills had hurled

   From their ancient seats;--all this,

   Wherein man takes most his pride,

   Valueless is cast aside,

   If the spirit there we miss,

   That can work from love alone,

   Not from pride in what is known.


   Though I lavished all I have

   On the poor in charity;

   Though I shrank not from the grave,

   Or unmoved the stake could see;

   Though my body here were given

   To the all-consuming flame;

   If my mind were still the same,

   Meeter were I not for heaven,

   Till by Love my works were crowned,

   Till in Love my strength were found.


   Faith must conquer, Hope must bloom,

   As our onward path we wend,

   Else we came not through the gloom,

   But with earth they also end:

   Thou, O Love, doth stretch afar

   Through the wide eternity,

   And the soul arrayed in Thee

   Shines for ever as a star.

   Faith and hope must pass away,

   Thou, O Love, endurest aye.


   Come, thou Spirit of pure Love,

   Who dost forth from God proceed,

   Never from my heart remove,

   Let me all Thy impulse heed;

   All that seeks self-profit first,

   Rather than another's good,

   Whether foe or linked in blood,

   Let me hold such thought accurst;

   And my heart henceforward be

   Ruled, inspired, O Love, by thee!
     __________________________________________________________________

Quinquagesima Sunday.

   And Jesus said unto him, Receive thy sight; thy faith hath saved thee.
   And immediately he received his sight, and followed him, glorifying
   God.

   From the Gospel. [Luke 18:42-43]

   8,6,8,6

   Was du vor tausend Jahren

   [68]De la Mothe Foqué.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855

   I am the light of the world.

   [Jn. 8:12]

   God said, let there be light: and there was light.

   [Gen. 1:3]


   My Saviour, what Thou didst of old,

   When thou wast dwelling here,

   Thou doest yet for them, who bold

   In faith to Thee draw near.

   As thou hadst pity on the blind,

   According to Thy Word,

   Thou sufferedst me Thy grace to find,

   Thy Light hast on me poured.


   Mourning I sat beside the way,

   In sightless gloom apart,

   And sadness heavy on me lay,

   And longing gnawed my heart;

   I heard the music of the psalms

   Thy people sang to Thee,

   I felt the waving of their palms,

   And yet I could not see.


   My pain grew more than I could bear,

   Too keen my grief became,

   Then I took heart in my despair

   To call upon Thy name;

   "O Son of David, save and heal,

   As Thou so oft hast done!

   O dearest Jesus, let me feel

   My load of darkness gone."


   And ever weeping as I spoke

   With bitter prayers and sighs,

   My stony heart grew soft and broke,

   More earnest yet my cries.

   A sudden answer stilled my fear,

   For it was said to me,

   "O poor blind man, be of good cheer,

   Rejoice, He calleth thee."


   I felt, Lord, that Thou stoodest still,

   Groping Thy feet I sought,

   From off me fell my old self-will,

   A change came o'er my thought.

   Thou saidst, "What is it thou wouldst have?"

   "Lord, that I might have sight;

   To see Thy countenance I crave:"

   "So be it, have thou Light."


   And words of Thine can never fail,

   My fears are past and o'er;

   My soul is glad with light, the veil

   Is on my heart no more.

   Thou blessest me, and forth I fare

   Free from my old discrace,

   And follow on with joy where'er

   Thy footsteps, Lord, I trace.
     __________________________________________________________________

Ash Wednesday.

   Gather the people . . and let the priests, the ministers of the Lord,
   weep between the porch and the alter, and let them say, Spare Thy
   people, O Lord.

   From the Passage for the Epistle. [Joel 2:17]

   7,5,7,5,3,4,7,7

   Straf mich nicht in deinem Zorn

   [69]Albinus. 1652.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Not in anger smite us, Lord,

   Spare Thy people, spare!

   If Thou mete us due reward

   We must all despair.

   Let the flood

   Of Jesus' blood

   Quench the flaming of Thy wrath,

   That our sin enkindled hath.


   Father! Thou hast patience long

   With the sick and weak;

   Heal us, make us brave and strong,

   Words of comfort speak.

   Touch my soul,

   And make me whole

   With Thy healing precious balm;

   Ward off all would bring me harm.


   Weary am I, Lord, and worn

   With my ceaseless pain;

   Sad the heart that night and morn

   Sighs for help in vain.

   Wilt Thou yet

   My soul forget,

   Waiting anxiously for Thee

   In the cave of misery?


   Hence, ye foes! God hears my prayer

   From His holy place;

   Once again with hope I dare

   Come before His face.

   Satan flee,

   Hell touch not me;

   God hath given me power o'er all,

   Who once mocked and sought my fall.
     __________________________________________________________________

First Sunday in Lent.

   Then was Jesus led up of the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted
   of the devil. And he fasted forty days and forty nights.

   From the Gospel. [Matt. 4:1-2]

   10,10,10,10

   Bin ich allein ein Fremdling auf

   [70]Raisner. 1678.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Am I a stranger here, on earth alone,

   When shall my weary days be past and gone?

   When shall I find some respite, some relief

   From this unsleeping pain, this haunting grief?


   The joyful sun another morning brings,

   I only wake to see care's piercing stings;

   The soft moon comes with silent night and sleep,

   And bringeth nought to me but time to weep.


   My heart and conscience sorely wounded lie,

   Struck by the arrows of Thy wrath, Most High!

   From morn to eventide where'er I flee,

   I find no hiding-place, great God, from Thee!


   O Lord, be not so strict to mark my crimes!

   Great God, dost thou remember yet those times

   Of foolish thoughtlessness, when blind and young

   My heart to vain delights of earth still clung?


   Wilt Thou then always bear my sins in mind?

   What offering, what atonement can I find!

   Nought have I of mine own but sin and wrong,

   But love and mercy, Lord, to Thee belong!


   Oh therefore leave me not the wretched prey

   Of those who seek to take my life away!

   Yet though with streaming eyes to Thee I cry,

   No answering voice comes from Thy throne on high.


   Vain are my tears and prayers, vain all my woe,

   While Thou dost fight against me as a foe;

   The zeal of Thy just anger and Thy might

   Have plunged my soul in blackest depths of night.


   I sit alone; with tears I bathe my cheeks,

   With bitter sighs and groans my spirit seeks,

   For Him, who veils behind the clouds His face,

   And hears not, as of old in happier days.


   O that I had a dove's swift wings! I'd fly

   Away to some far mountain lone and high,--

   Yet could I not escape His mighty hand

   Before whom all things bare and open stand.


   Nay, rather let me suffer all His will,

   Though His fierce anger beat upon me still,

   A willing heart and patient mind, O God!

   I bring to Thy sever but righteous rod.


   Much have I sinned, I perish utterly

   If my misdeeds be all avenged of Thee;

   Yet, Lord of Hosts, doth not thy Word proclaim,

   The Merciful is Thy most glorious name!
     __________________________________________________________________

Second Sunday in Lent.

   And the disciples said, Send her away, for she crieth after us; . . .
   But He said, Great is thy faith, be it unto thee even as thou wilt.

   From the Gospel. [Matt. 15:23-28]

   12,4,4,12,6,6,10,6

   Ich lass dich nicht, du Hülf' in

   [71]Wolfgang C. Deszler. 1692.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   I will not let Thee go; Thou Help in time of need!

   Heap ill on ill

   I trust Thee still,

   E'en when it seems that thou wouldst slay indeed!

   Do as Thou wilt with me,

   I yet will cling to Thee,

   Hide Thou Thy face, yet, Help in time of need,

   I will not let Thee go!


   I will not let Thee go; should I forsake my bliss?

   No, Lord, Thou'rt mine,

   And I am Thine,

   Thee will I hold when all things else I miss.

   Though dark and sad the night,

   Joy cometh with Thy light,

   O Thou my Sun; should I forsake my bliss?

   I will not let Thee go!


   I will not let Thee go, my God, my Life, my Lord!

   Not Death can tear

   Me from His care,

   Who for my sake His soul in death outpoured.

   Thou diedst for love to me,

   I say in love to Thee,

   E'en when my heart shall break, my God, my Life, my Lord,

   I will not let Thee go!
     __________________________________________________________________

Third Sunday in Lent.

   Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall
   give thee light.--

   From the Epistle. [Eph. 5:14]

   8,6,8,6,8,8,10,10

   Erwach, o Mensch, erwache

   [72]Crasselius. 1697.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Awake, O man, and from thee shake

   This heavy sleep of sin!

   Soon shall the Highest vengeance take,

   Soon shall His wrath begin

   To smite the wretched sinner home;

   In awful terrors He shall come,

   To mete to all on earth their due reward,

   Only the righteous spares our angry Lord.


   Come then, ye sinners, great and small,

   Weeping and mourning sore,

   Low down before his footstool fall,

   And vow to sin no more.

   In faith and godliness array

   Your souls against that final day,

   So shall ye 'scape His wrath, and blessed die,

   Heirs of the kingdom with your Lord on high.


   Oh lay to heart this wondrous thought,

   Through what sore agony

   And death was your redemption bought,

   And to your Saviour flee

   Ere yet to late; the world disown,

   And fix your love on Christ alone,

   And do His will; for at the final doom,

   Those who dishonoured Him shall wrath consume.


   Turn Thou us, and we shall be turned,

   Thou broughtest back of old

   Thy straying people, when they yearned

   After their proper fold;

   Even so forgive what we have done,

   Accept us in Thy blessed Son,

   And let Thy Holy Spirit be our guide,

   That we may spread Thy praises far and wide!
     __________________________________________________________________

Fourth Sunday in Lent.

   Grant, we beseech Thee, Almighty God, that we, who for our evil deeds
   do worthily deserve to be punished, by the comfort of Thy grace may
   mercifully be relieved; through our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.

   From the Collect.

   10,10,10,10

   Hier lieg ich nun mein Gott zu deinen

   [73]Anon.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Here, O my God, I cast me at Thy feet,

   Ready to suffer what Thou thinkest meet;

   Yet look on me, great God, with pitying eyes,

   Reward me not for mine iniquities!


   To oft, alas! my heart hath loved to stray

   Downward along Sin's broad and easy way;

   And worldly pride and carnal lusts most foul

   Were shameless cherished in my inmost soul.


   Thy Majesty have I offended, Lord,

   And set at nought Thy law, Thy holy Word;

   I had not learnt Thy righteous wrath to dread,

   Nor saw the vengeance gathering o'er my head.


   O wretched man, what evil have I wrought!

   Who may these heavy chains of sin unbind?

   Can man nor creature show me any place,

   Where I may flee and hide me from God's face!


   Nay, I must flee to God Himself, from whom

   Our life and help, our hope and safety come;

   What all the world must unaccomplished leave,

   Thou, for Thou art Almighty, canst achieve.


   Think on the covenant Thou hast never broken,

   Think on the steadfast oath Thyself hast spoken,

   Know that I am a God, Thy promise saith,

   Who hath no pleasure in a sinner's death.


   Then let the arms of love be round me thrown,

   Have pity on me, hear my bitter moan,

   Call back Thy sheep, that wandering far astray,

   Was lost in sin, nor knew its homeward way.


   Grant me to rule my inner life aright,

   And act and speak as ever in Thy sight,

   A friend to all true virtue, but a foe

   To all Thou hatest, sins and follies low.


   Thou Merciful! what thanks and praise shall be

   For Thy great goodness offered unto Thee,

   As is most meet, while here my days I spend,

   And yonder in the world that shall not end!
     __________________________________________________________________

Fifth Sunday in Lent.

   Out of the depths have I called unto Thee, O Lord; Lord, hear my voice.
   If Thou, Lord, wilt be extreme to mark what is done amiss, O Lord, who
   may abide it?--

   Ps. 130:1,3.

   8,6,8,6,8,8,9

   Aus tiefer Noth schrei ich zu dir

   [74]Luther. 1524.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Out of the depths I cry to thee,

   Lord God! oh hear my prayer!

   Incline a gracious ear to me,

   And bid me not despair:

   If Thou rememberest each misdeed,

   If each should have its righteous meed,

   Lord, who shall stand before Thee?


   'Tis through Thy love alone we gain

   The pardon of our sin;

   The strictest life is but in vain,

   Our works can nothing win,

   That none should boast himself of aught,

   But own in fear Thy grace hath wrought

   What in him seemeth righteous.


   Wherefore my hope is in the Lord,

   My works I count but dust,

   I build not there, but on His word,

   And in His goodness trust.

   Up to His care myself I yield,

   He is my tower, my rock, my shield,

   And for His help I tarry.


   And though it linger till the night,

   And round again till morn,

   My heart shall ne'er mistrust Thy might,

   Nor count itself forlorn.

   Do thus, O ye of Israel's seed,

   Ye of the Spirit born indeed,

   Wait for your God's appearing.


   Though great our sins and sore our wounds,

   And deep and dark our fall,

   His helping mercy hath no bounds,

   His love surpasseth all.

   Our trusty loving Shepherd He,

   Who shall at last set Israel free

   From all their sin and sorrow.
     __________________________________________________________________

Palm Sunday.

   And the multitude that went before, and that followed, cried, saying,
   Hosanna to the Son of David; Blessed is He that cometh in the name of
   the Lord; Hosanna in the highest.

   Matt. 21:9.

   10,8,6,10,10,10

   Hosianna! Davids Sohn

   [75]Schmolck. 1704.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Hosanna to the Son of David! Raise

   Triumphal arches to His praise,

   For Him prepare a throne

   Who comes at last to Zion--to His own!

   Strew palms around, make plain and straight the way

   For Him who His triumphal entry holds today!


   Hosanna! Welcome above all Thou art!

   Make ready each to lay his heart

   Low down before His feet!

   Come, let us hasten forth our Lord to meet,

   And bid him enter in Zion's gates,

   Where thousand-voiced welcome on His coming waits.


   Hosanna! Prince of Peace and Lord of Might!

   We hail Thee Conqueror in the fight!

   All Thou with toil hast won,

   Shall be our booty when the battle's done.

   Thy right hand ever hath the rule and sway,

   Thy kingdom standeth fast when all things else decay.


   Hosanna! best-beloved and noble Guest!

   Who makest us by thy behest

   Heirs of Thy realm with Thee.

   Oh let us therefore never weary be

   To stand and serve before Thy righteous throne,

   We know no king but Thee, rule Thou o'er us alone!


   Hosanna! Come, the time draws on apace,

   We long Thy mercy to embrace,

   This servant's form can ne'er

   Conceal the majesty Thy acts declare:

   Too well art Thou here in Thy Zion known,

   Who art the Son of God, and yet art David's Son.


   Hosanna! Lord, be Thou our help and friend,

   Thy aid to us in mercy send,

   That each may bring his soul

   An offering unto Thee, unstained and whole.

   Thou wilt have none for Thy disciples, Lord,

   But those who truly keep, not only hear Thy word.


   Hosanna! Let us in Thy footsteps tread,

   Not that sad Mount of Olives dread

   Where we must weep and watch,

   Until the far-off song of joy we catch

   From Heaven our Bethphage, where we shall sing

   Hosanna in the highest to our God and King!


   Hosanna! Let us sound it far and wide!

   Enter Thou in and here abide,

   Thou Blessed of the Lord!

   Why standest Thou without, why roam'st abroad!

   Hosanna! Make Thy home with us for ever!

   Thou comest, Lord! and nought us from Thy love shall sever.


   Hallelujah.
     __________________________________________________________________

Monday in Passion Week.

   And when He was come near, He beheld the city and wept over it.

   Luke 19:14

   8,6,8,10,4,10,12,10

   Du weinest für Jerusalem

   [76]Heermann. 1630.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Thou weepest o'er Jerusalem,

   Lord Jesus, bitter tears;

   But deepest comfort lies in them

   For us, whose sins have filled our soul with tears:

   Since they that tell,

   When sinners turn to Thee Thou lov'st it well,

   And surely wilt efface, of Thy unbounded grace,

   All the misdeeds that on our conscience dwell.


   When God's just wrath and anger burn

   Against me for my sin,

   To these sad tears of Thine I turn,

   And watching them fresh hope and courage win;

   For God doth prize

   These drops so greatly, that before His eyes

   Who sprinkles o'er his soul with them is clean and whole,

   And from his sorrows' depth new joy shall rise.


   Earth is the home of tears and woe,

   Where we must often weep,

   Fighting the world our mighty foe,

   Whose enmity to Thee doth never sleep;

   My heart is torn

   Afresh each day by her fierce rage and scorn,

   But in my saddest hours, I think upon those showers

   That tell how Thou hast all our sorrows borne.


   Thou countest up my tears and sighs,

   E'en were they numberless;

   Not one is hidden from thy eyes,

   Thou ne'er forgettest me in my distress,

   But when they rain

   Before Thee, Thou dost quickly turn again,

   Hast pity on my woe, and makest me to know

   What sweetest joy lies hid in sorest pain.


   We sow in tears; but let us keep

   Our faith in God, and trust Him still,

   Yonder our harvest we shall reap,

   Where gladness every heart and voice shall fill.

   Such joy is there

   No mortal tongue its glory can declare,

   A joy that shall endure, unchanging deep and pure,

   That shall be ours, if here the cross we bear.


   O Christ, I thank Thee for Thy tears;

   Those tears have won for me

   That I shall wear, through endless years,

   A crown of joy before my God and Thee.

   All weeping o'er,

   Up to Thy chosen saints I once shall soar,

   And there Thy pity praise, in more befitting lays,

   Thou glory of Thy Church, for evermore.

   For these things I weep, Mine eye runneth down with water, because the
   comfort that should relieve my soul, is for ever from me; my children
   are desolate because the enemy prevailed.

   Lament. 1:16
     __________________________________________________________________

Tuesday in Passion Week.

   By the which will we are sanctified, through the offering of the body
   of Jesus Christ once for all.

   Heb. 10:10

   7,7,7,7

   Jesu deine tiefen Wunden

   [77]Heermann. 1644.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Lord! Thy death and passion give

   Strength and comfort at my need,

   Every hour while here I live

   On Thy love my soul shall feed.

   Doth some evil thought upstart?

   Lo, Thy cross defends my heart,

   Shows the peril, and I shrink

   Back from loitering on the brink.


   Doth my carnal nature yearn

   After wanton joys? again

   Quickly to Thy cross I turn,

   And her voice is heard in vain.

   Cometh strong temptation's hour,

   When my foe puts forth his power?

   Sheltered by this holy shield,

   Soon I drive him from the field.


   Would the world my steps entice

   To yon wide and level road,

   Filled with mirth and pleasant vice?

   Lord, I think upon the load

   Thou didst once for me endure,

   And I fly all thoughts impure;

   Thinking on Thy bitter pains,

   Hushed in prayer my heart remains.


   Yes, Thy cross hath power to heal

   All the wounds of sin and strife,

   Lost in Thee my heart doth feel

   Sudden warmth and nobler life.

   In my saddest, darkest grief,

   Let Thy sweetness bring relief,

   Thou who camest but to save,

   Thou who fearedst not the grave!


   Lord, in Thee I place my trust,

   Thou art my defence and tower;

   Death Thou treadest in the dust,

   O'er my soul he hath no power.

   That I may have part in Thee,

   Help and save and comfort me,

   Give me of Thy grace and might,

   Resurrection, life and light.


   Fount of Good, within me dwell,

   For the peace Thy presence sheds

   Keeps us safe in conflict fell,

   Charms the pain from dying beds.

   Hide me close within Thine arm,

   Where no foe can hurt or harm;

   Whoso, Lord, in Thee doth rest,

   He hath conquered, he is blest.
     __________________________________________________________________

Wednesday in Passion Week.

   Now once in the end of the world hath He appeared, to put away sin by
   the sacrifice of Himself.

   From the Epistle. [Heb. 9:26]

   6,6,8,4,8,7,6

   Wenn meine Sünd' mich kränken

   [78]Gesenius. 1646.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   When sorrow and remorse

   Prey at my heart, to Thee

   I look, who on the holy cross

   Was slain for me.

   Ah Lord, Thy precious blood was spilt

   For me, O most unworthy,

   To take away my guilt.


   Oh wonder past belief!

   Behold the Master spares

   His servants, and sore pain and grief

   For them He bears.

   God stoopeth from His throne on high,

   For me His guilty creature,

   He deigns as man to die.


   Thou countless were the sins

   That weighed me to the dust,

   Christ's death for me the favour wins

   Of God most just.

   His precious blood my debts hath paid,

   Of hell and all its torments

   I am no more afraid.


   My heart is filled with ruth,

   Thinking on all Thou'st borne,

   How mighty love and tender truth

   Were crowned with thorn.

   In songs of thanks I'll spend my breath

   For Thy sad cry, Thy sufferings,

   Thy wrongs, Thy guiltless death.


   Thy Passion, Lord, inspires

   My spirit day by day,

   With strength from all low dark desires

   To flee away.

   This thought I fain would cherish most,

   What pain my soul's redemption

   To Thee, O Saviour, cost.


   Whate'er the burden be,

   The cross upon me laid,

   Or want or shame, I look to Thee,

   Be Thou mine aid.

   Give patience, give me strength to take

   Thee for my bright example,

   And all the world forsake.


   Let me to others do,

   As thou hast done to me,

   Love them with love unfeigned and true,

   Their servant be

   Of willing heart, nor seek my own,

   But as Thou, Lord, hast helped us,

   From purest love alone.


   And let Thy sorrows cheer

   My soul when I depart;

   Give strength to cast away all fear,

   And tell my heart

   That since my trust is in Thy grace,

   Thou wilt accept me yonder,

   Where I shall see Thy face.
     __________________________________________________________________

Thursday in Passion Week

   Pilate therefore, willing to release Jesus, spake again to them. But
   they cried saying, Crucify Him, crucify Him. And he said unto them the
   third time, Why, what evil hath He done?

   From the Gospel. [Lk. 23:20-22]

   10,10,10,4

   Herzliebster Jesu, was hast du

   [79]Heermann. 1630.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Alas dear Lord, what evil hast Thou done,

   That such sharp sentence from Thy judge hath won?

   What are His crimes, and what the guilt, oh, tell

   Wherein He fell!


   They scourge Him, crown Him with a crown of thorn,

   They smite His face with bitter mock and scorn,

   They give Him gall to drink, they pierce His side,

   The Crucified!


   From head to foot was there no spot in me

   Unscarred by sin, from taint of evil free;

   My sins had weighed me down that I should dwell

   For aye in Hell.


   Whence come these sorrows, whence this cruel woe?

   It was my sins that struck the fatal blow;

   Mine were the wrath and anguish, dearest Lord,

   On Thee outpoured.


   What strangest punishment! The Shepherd good

   For erring sheep here pours His own heart's blood,

   The servants' debts are on the Master laid,

   Who all hath paid.


   Oh wondrous love, love that no measure knows,

   That brought Thee, Christ, to drink this cup of woes!

   Full of the world's vain joys and hopes was I,

   While Thou must die!


   O mighty King! mighty beyond all time!

   Fain would I sound Thy praise through every clime!

   A gift were meet for Thee, my anxious thought

   Long time hath sought.


   But human wisdom searches, Lord, in vain

   To find aught like Thy pity, or Thy pain.

   How shall my works, though toiling day and night,

   Thy love requite?


   Yet have I somewhat that my Lord can please;

   I can renounce sweet sins and selfish ease,

   And quinch the unhallowed fires that back would lure

   To thoughts impure.


   But since my strength, alas, will ne'er prevail

   My strong desires upon the cross to nail,

   Oh let Thy Spirit rule my heart, who leads

   To all good deeds.


   Then shall Thy mercy fill my every thought,

   I love Thee so, the world to me is nought;

   My sole endeavour, Lord, is to fulfil

   Thy holy will.


   My all I risk to magnify Thy name,

   No cross shall daunt me, no reproach or shame;

   Man's fiercest threats I will not lay to heart,

   Nor Death's worst smart.


   In truth my sacrifice is nothing worth,

   Yet Thou in mercy wilt not cast it forth;

   Thou'lt put me not to shame but for love's sake

   My offering take.


   Lord Jesus, once on high amongst Thine own,

   Shall I stand crowned with light before Thy throne!

   Where sweetest hymns are ever ringing round,

   My voice shall sound.
     __________________________________________________________________

Good Friday. Morning.

   He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our
   iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and with His
   stripes we are healed.

   From the Lesson. [Is. 53:5]

   6,6,8,6

   O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden

   [80]Paul Gerhardt. 1659.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Ah wounded Head! Must Thou

   Endure such shame and scorn!

   The blood is trickling from Thy brow

   Pierced by the crown of thorn.

   Thou who wast crowned on high

   With light and majesty,

   In deep dishonour here must die,

   Yet here I welcome Thee!


   Thou noble countenance!

   All earthly lights are pale

   Before the brightness of that glance,

   At which a world shall quail.

   How is it quenched and gone!

   Those gracious eyes how dim!

   Whence grew that cheek so pale and wan?

   Who dared to scoff at Him?


   All lovely hues of life,

   That glowed on lip and cheek,

   Have vanished in that awful strife;

   The Mighty One is weak.

   Pale Death has won the day,

   He triumphs in this hour

   When Strength and Beauty fade away,

   And yield them to his power.


   Ah Lord, Thy woes belong,

   Thy cruel pains, to me,

   The burden of my sin and wrong

   Hath all been laid on Thee.

   Behold me where I kneel,

   Wrath were my rightful lot,

   One glance of love yet let me feel!

   Redeemer, spurn me not!


   My Guardian, own me Thine;

   My Shepherd, bear me home:

   O Fount of mercy, Source Divine,

   From Thee what blessings come!

   How oft Thy mouth has fed

   My soul with angels' food,

   How oft Thy Spirit o'er me shed

   His stores of Heavenly good!


   Ah would that I could share

   Thy cross, Thy bitter woes!

   All true delight lies hidden there,

   Thence all true comfort flows.

   Ah well were it for me

   That I could end my strife,

   And die upon the cross with Thee,

   Who art my Life of life!


   My soul is all o'erfraught,

   O Jesus, dearest Friend,

   With thankful love to Him who sought

   Such woe for such an end.

   Grant me as true a faith,

   As Thou art true to me,

   That so the icy sleep of death

   Be but a rest in Thee.


   Yes, when I must depart,

   Depart Thou not from me;

   When Death is creeping to my heart,

   Bear Thou mine agony.

   When faith and courage sink,

   O'erwhelmed with dread dismay,

   Come Thou who ne'er from pain didst shrink,

   And chase my fears away.


   Come to me ere I die,

   My comfort and my shield;

   Then gazing on Thy cross can I

   Calmly my spirit yield.

   On Thee, when life is past,

   My darkening eyes shall dwell,

   My heart in faith shall hold Thee fast;

   Who dieth thus, dies well.
     __________________________________________________________________

Good Friday. Evening.

   But God commended His love toward us, in that, while we were yet
   sinners, Christ died for us.

   Rom 5:8

   8,8,8,8

   O du Liebe meiner Liebe

   [81]Angelus. 1657.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Thou Holiest Love, whom most I love,

   Who art my longed-for only bliss,

   Whom tenderest pity erst did move

   To fathom woe and death's abyss

   Who once didst suffer for my good,

   And die my guilty debts to pay,

   Thou Lamb of God, whose precious blood

   Can take a world's misdeeds away;


   Thou Love, who didst such anguish bear

   Upon the Mount of agony,

   And yet with ceaseless watchful care

   Dost yearn o'er us so tenderly;

   Thou camest not Thy will to seek,

   But all Thy Father's will obey,

   Bearing the cross in patience meek,

   That Thou might'st take our curse away.


   O Love, who with unflinching heart

   Enduredst all disgrace and shame;

   O Love, who mid the keenest smart

   Of dying pangs wert still the same;

   Who didst Thy changeless virtue prove

   E'en with Thy latest parting breath,

   And spakest words of gentlest love

   When soul and body sank in death;


   O Love, through sorrows manifold

   Hast Thou betrothed me as a bride,

   By ceaseless gifts, by love untold,

   Hast bound me ever to Thy side;

   Oh let the weary ache, the smart,

   Of life's long tale of pain and loss,

   Be gently stilled within my heart

   At thought of Thee, and of Thy cross!


   O Love, who dying thus for me,

   Hast won me an eternal good

   Through sorest anguish on the tree,

   I ever think upon Thy blood;

   I ever thank Thy sacred wounds,

   Thou wounded Love, Thou Holiest,

   But most when life is near its bounds,

   And in Thy bosom safe I rest.


   O Love, who unto death hast grieved

   For this cold heart, unworthy Thine,

   Whom once the chill dark grave received,

   I thank Thee for that grief divine;

   I give Thee thanks that Thou didst die

   To win eternal life for me,

   To bring salvation from on high;

   Oh draw me up through love to Thee!
     __________________________________________________________________

Easter Even.

   And Joseph wrapped the body in a clean linen cloth, and laid it in his
   own new tomb, which he had hewn out in the rock.

   From the Gospel. [Matt. 27:59-60]

   6,6,11,6,6,11

   Su ruhest du, o meine Ruh

   [82]Salomo Franck (1659-1725). 1711.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Rest of the weary! Thou

   Thyself art resting now,

   Where lowly in Thy sepulchre Thou liest:

   From out her deathly sleep

   My soul doth start, to weep

   So sad a wonder, that Thou Saviour diest!


   Thy bitter anguish o'er,

   To this dark tomb they bore

   Thee, Life of Life--Thee, Lord of all creation!

   The hollow rocky cave

   Must serve Thee for a grave,

   Who wast Thyself the Rock of our Salvation!


   O Prince of Life! I know

   That when I too lie low,

   Thou wilt at last my soul from death awaken;

   And thus I will not shrink

   From the grave's awful brink;

   The heart that trusts in Thee shall ne'er be shaken.


   To me the darksome tomb

   Is but a narrow room,

   Where I may rest in peace from sorrow free;

   Thy death shall give me power

   To cry in that dark hour,

   O Death, O Grave, where is your victory?


   The grave can nought destroy,

   Only the flesh can die,

   And e'en the body triumphs o'er decay:

   Clothed by Thy wondrous might

   In robes of dazzling light,

   This flesh shall burst the grave at that last Day.


   My Jesus, day by day,

   Help me to watch and pray,

   Beside the tomb where in my heart Thou'rt laid.

   Thy bitter death shall be

   My constant memory,

   My guide at last into Death's awful shade.
     __________________________________________________________________

Easter Day. Morning.

   Christ being raised from the dead dieth no more: death hath no more
   dominion over Him.

   From the Anthem [Rom. 6:9]

   7,7,7,7,7,7,4

   Christ lag in Todesbanden

   [83]Luther. 1524.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   In the bonds of Death He lay,

   Who for our offense was slain,

   But the Lord is risen today,

   Christ hath brought us life again.

   Wherefore let us all rejoice,

   Singing loud with a cheerful voice

   Hallelujah!


   Of the sons of men was none

   Who could break the bonds of Death,

   Sin this mischief dire had done,

   Innocent was none on earth;

   Wherefore Death grew strong and bold,

   Death would all men captive hold.

   Hallelujah!


   Jesus Christ, God's only Son,

   Came at last our foe to smite,

   All our sins away hath done,

   Done away Death's power and right,

   Only the form of Death is left,

   Of his sting he is bereft;

   Hallelujah.


   'Twas a wondrous war, I trow,

   When Life and Death together fought;

   But life hath triumphed o'er his foe,

   Death is mocked and set at nought;

   Yea, 'tis as the Scripture saith,

   Christ through death has conquered Death.

   Hallelujah.


   Now our Paschal Lamb is He,

   And by Him alone we live,

   Who to death upon the tree,

   For our sake Himself did give.

   Faith His blood strikes on our door,

   Death dares never harm us more.

   Hallelujah.


   On this day most blest of days,

   Let us keep high festival,

   For our God hath showed His grace,

   And our Sun hath risen on us all,

   And our hearts rejoice to see

   Sin and night before Him flee.

   Hallelujah.


   To the supper of the Lord,

   Gladly we will come today,

   The word of peace is now restored,

   The old leaven is put away;

   Christ will be our food alone,

   Faith no life but His doth own.

   Hallelujah.
     __________________________________________________________________

Easter Day. Evening.

   If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above,
   where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God.

   From the Epistle. [Col. 3:1]

   7,7,7,7,10,10

   Verklärtes Haupt nun lebst du

   [84]Gerhard Tersteegen. 1731.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   O Glorious Head, Thou livest now!

   Let us Thy members share Thy life;

   Canst Thou behold their need, nor bow

   To raise Thy children from the strife

   With self and sin, with death and dark distress,

   That they may live to Thee in holiness?


   Earth knows Thee not, but evermore

   Thou liv'st in Paradise, in peace;

   Oh fain my soul would thither soar,

   Oh let me from the creatures cease:

   Dead to the world, but to Thy spirit known,

   I live to Thee, O Prince of life, alone.


   Break through my bonds whate'er it cost,

   What is not Thine within me slay,

   Give me the lot I covet most,

   To rise as Thou hast risen today.

   I nought can do, a slave to death I pine,

   Work Thou in me, O Power and Life Divine!


   Work Thou in me, and heavenward guide

   My thoughts and wishes, that my heart

   Waver no more nor turn aside,

   But fix for ever where Thou art.

   Thou art not far from us; who loves Thee well,

   While yet on earth in heaven with Thee may dwell.
     __________________________________________________________________

Monday in Easter Week.

   And they told what things were done in the way, and how he was known to
   them in breaking of bread. And as they thus spake, Jesus Himself stood
   in the midst of them, and saith unto them, Peace be unto you.

   From the Gospel. [Lk 24:35-36]

   8,6,8,6

   Willkommen Held im Streite

   [85]Schmolck. 1712.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Welcome Thou victor in the strife,

   Now welcome from the cave!

   Today we triumph in Thy life

   Around Thine empty grave.


   Our enemy is put to shame,

   His short-lived triumph o'er;

   Our God is with us, we exclaim,

   We fear our foe no more.


   The dwellings of the just resound

   With songs of victory;

   For in their midst, Lord, Thou art found,

   And bringest peace with Thee.


   O share with us the spoils, we pray,

   Thou diedst to achieve;

   We meet within Thy house today

   Our portion to receive:


   And let Thy conquering banner wave

   O'er hearts Thou makest free,

   And point the path that from the grave

   Leads heavenward up to Thee.


   We bury all our sin and crime

   Deep in our Saviour's tomb,

   And seek the treasure there, that time

   Nor change can e'er consume.


   We die with Thee; oh let us live

   Henceforth to Thee aright;

   The blessings Thou hast died to give,

   Be daily in our sight.


   Fearless we lay us in the tomb,

   And sleep the night away,

   If Thou art there to break the gloom,

   And call us back to day.


   Death hurts us not; his power is gone,

   And pointless all his darts;

   Now hath God's favour on us shone,

   And joy fills all our hearts.
     __________________________________________________________________

Tuesday in Easter Week.

   I know that my Redeemer liveth . . and though after my skin worms
   destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.

   Job 19:25,26

   For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put
   on immortality.

   From the Lesson. [1 Cor. 15:53]

   7,7,7,7,7,7

   Jesus meine Zuversicht

   [86]Louisa Henrietta, Electress of Brandenburgh. 1653.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Jesus my Redeemer lives,

   Christ my trust is dead no more;

   In the strength this knowledge gives

   Shall not all my tears be o'er,

   Though the night of Death be fraught

   Still with many an anxious thought?


   Jesus my Redeemer lives,

   And His life I once shall see;

   Bright the hope this promise gives,

   Where He is I too shall be.

   Shall I fear then? Can the Head

   Rise and leave the members dead?


   Close to Him my soul is bound

   In the bonds of Hope enclasped;

   Faith's strong hand this hold hath found,

   And the Rock hath firmly grasped:

   And no ban of death can part

   From our Lord the trusting heart.


   I shall see Him with these eyes,

   Him whom I shall surely know;

   Nort another shall I rise,

   With His love this heart shall glow;

   Only there shall disappear

   Weakness in and round me here.


   Ye who suffer, sigh, and moan,

   Fresh and glorious there shall reign;

   Earthly here the seed is sown,

   Heavenly it shall rise again;

   Natural here the death we die,

   Spiritual our life on high.


   Body, be thou of good cheer,

   In thy Saviour's care rejoice,

   Give not place to gloom and fear,

   Dead, thou yet shalt know His voice,

   When the final trump is heard,

   And the deaf cold grave is stirred.


   Laugh to scorn then death and hell,

   Laugh to scorn the gloomy grave;

   Caught into the air to dwell

   With the Lord who comes to save,

   We shall trample on our foes,

   Mortal weakness, fear and woes.


   Only see ye that your heart

   Rise betimes from earthly lust;

   Would ye there with Him have part,

   Here obey your Lord and trust,

   Fix your hearts beyond the skies,

   Whither ye yourselves would rise.
     __________________________________________________________________

First Sunday after Easter.

   God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in His Son.

   From the Epistle. [1 Jn. 5:11]

   8,8,8,8

   Was wär ich ohne dich gewesen

   After [87]Novalis. about 1795.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   What had I been if Thou wert not?

   What were I now if Thou wert gone?

   Ah, fear and anguish were my lot,

   In this wide world I stood alone;

   Whate'er I love were safe no more,

   The future were a dark abyss;

   To whom could I my sorrows pour,

   If Thee my laden heart should miss?


   Longing for love through lonely years,

   The gloom of night came o'er my day;

   I followed, yet with secret tears,

   The world's wild joys, and owned her sway;

   Till restless from her turmoil driven,

   I turned within,--and grief was there:

   Ah, had we not a Friend in heaven,

   Who, who his lot on earth could bear!


   But when Thou mak'st Thy presence felt,

   And when the soul hath grasped Thee right,

   How fast the dreary shadows melt

   Beneath Thy warm and living light!

   In Thee I find a nobler birth,

   A glory o'er the world I see,

   And paradise returns to earth,

   And blooms again for us in Thee.


   Thou strong and loving Son of Man,

   Redeemer from the bonds of sin,

   'Tis Thou the living spark dost fan

   That sets my heart on fire within.

   Thou openest heaven once more to men,

   The soul's true home, Thy Kingdom, Lord,

   And I can trust and hope again,

   And feel myself akin to God.


   Brethren, go forth beside all ways,

   The wanderer greet with outstretched hand,

   And call him back who darkly strays,

   And bid him join our gladsome band.

   That Heaven hath stooped to earth below,

   Proclaim the glad news everywhere,

   That all may learn our faith, and know

   They too may find an entrance there.
     __________________________________________________________________

Second Sunday after Easter.

   Jesus said, I am the Good Shepherd: the Good Shepherd giveth His life
   for His sheep.

   From the Gospel. [Jn. 10:11]

   7,7,7,7,7,7

   Guter Hirte willst du nicht

   [88]Angelus. 1657.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Loving Shepherd, kind and true,

   Wilt Thou not in pity come

   To Thy Lamb? As shepherds do,

   Bear me in Thy bosom home;

   Take me hence from earth's annoy

   To Thy home of endless joy.


   See how I have gone astray

   In this earthly wilderness;

   Come and take me soon away

   To Thy flock who dwell in bliss,

   And Thy glory, Lord, behold,

   Safe within Thy heavenly fold.


   For I fain would gaze on Thee,

   With the lambs to whom 'tis given

   That they feed, from danger free,

   In the happy fields of heaven;

   Praising Thee, all terrors o'er,

   Never can they wander more.


   Here I live in sore distress,

   Fearing, watching, hour by hour;

   For my foes around me press,

   And I know their craft and power:

   Lord, Thy lamb can never be

   Safe one moment, but with Thee.


   O Lord Jesus, let me not

   'Mid the ravening wolves e'er fall,

   Help me as a shepherd ought,

   That I may escape them all:

   Bear me homeward in Thy breast,

   To Thy fold of endless rest.
     __________________________________________________________________

Third Sunday After Easter.

   And ye now have sorrow; but I will see you again, and your heart shall
   rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you.

   From the Gospel. [Jn. 16:22]

   7,7,7,7,7,7,7

   Auf den Nebel folgt die Sonne

   [89]Paul Gerhardt. 1659.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Cometh sunshine after rain,

   After mourning joy again,

   After heavy bitter grief

   Dawneth surely sweet relief!

   And my soul, who from her height

   Sank to realms of woe and night,

   Wingeth now to heaven her flight.


   He whom this world dares not face

   Hath refreshed me with His grace,

   And His mighty hand unbound

   Chains of hell about me wound;

   Quicker, stronger, leaps my blood,

   Since His mercy, like a flood,

   Poured o'er all my heart for good.


   Bitter anguish have I borne,

   Keen regret my heart hath torn,

   Sorrow dimmed my weeping eyes,

   Satan blinded me with lies;

   Yet at last am I set free,

   Help, protection, love to me

   Once more true companions be.


   None was ever left a prey,

   None was ever turned away,

   Who had given himself to God,

   And on Him had cast his load.

   Who in God his hope hath placed

   Shall not life in pain outwaste,

   Fullest joy he yet shall taste.


   Though today may not fulfil

   All thy hopes, have patience still,

   For perchance tomorrow's sun

   Sees thy happier days begun;

   As God willeth march the hours,

   Bringing joy at last in showers,

   When whate'er we asked is ours.


   Once a pain that would not cease

   Gnawed my heart without release,

   Sorrow bowed me 'neath her yoke,

   Then in sadness oft I spoke:

   Now no hope is left for me,

   And no rest, until I be

   Whelmed beneath Death's sunless sea.


   But when I was worn with care,

   Filled with dread well-nigh despair;

   When with watching many a night,

   On me fell pale sickness' blight;

   When my courage failed me fast,

   Camest Thou, my God, at last,

   And my woes were quickly past.


   Yea, Thou God didst make an end,

   Thou such help and strength did send,

   That I nevermore can praise

   As I ought, Thy matchless grace;

   When I shought with anxious fear,

   And could see no refuge here,

   Lo! I found Thy help was near.


   Now as long as here I roam,

   On this earth have house and home,

   Shall this wondrous gleam from Thee

   Shine through all my memory.

   To my God I yet will cling.

   All my life the praises sing

   That from thankful hearts outspring.


   Every sorrow, every smart,

   That the Eternal Father's heart

   Hath appointed me of yore,

   Or hath yet for me in store,

   As my life flows on I'll take

   Calmly, gladly, for His sake,

   No more faithless murmurs make.


   I will meet distress and pain

   I will greet e'en Death's dark reign,

   I will lay me in the grave,

   With a heart still glad and brave;

   Whom the Strongest doth defend,

   Whom the Highest counts His friend,

   Cannot perish in the end.

   For I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at the
   latter day upon the earth: and though after my skin worms destroy this
   body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.

   Job 19:25,26
     __________________________________________________________________

Fourth Sunday After Easter.

   It is expedient for you that I go away, for if I go not away, the
   Comforter will not come unto you.

   From the Gospel. [Jn. 16:7]

   7,7,7

   Heil'ger Geist, du Tröster mein

   Translation of the 17th century

   after [90]King Robert of France. About A.D. 1000.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Holy Ghost! my Comforter!

   Now from highest heaven appear,

   Shed Thy gracious radiance here.


   Come to them who suffer dearth,

   With Thy gifts of priceless worth,

   Lighten all who dwell on earth!


   Thou the heart's most precious guest,

   Thou of comforters the best,

   Give to us, the o'er-laden, rest.


   Come, in Thee our toil is sweet,

   Shelter from the noon-day heat,

   From whom sorrow flieth fleet.


   Blessed Sun of Grace! O'er all

   Faithful hearts who on Thee call,

   Let Thy joy and solace fall.


   What without Thy aid is wrought,

   Skilful deed or wisest thought,

   God will count but vain and nought.


   Cleanse us, Lord, from sinful stain,

   O'er the parchèd heart oh rain,

   Heal the wounded from its pain.


   Bend the stubborn will to Thine,

   Melt the cold with fire divine,

   Erring hearts aright incline.


   Grant us, Lord, who cry to Thee,

   Steadfast in the faith to be,

   Give Thy gifts of charity.


   May we live in holiness,

   And in death find happiness,

   And abide with Thee in bliss!
     __________________________________________________________________

Fifth Sunday after Easter.

   These things have I spoken unto you, that ye might have peace. In the
   world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome
   the world.

   From the Gospel. [Jn. 16:33]

   10,10,10,4

   Christe, du Beistand deiner Kreuzgemeine

   [91]Löwenstern. During the Thirty Years' War.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Christ Thou the champion of that war-worn host

   Who bear Thy cross, haste, help, or we are lost;

   The schemes of those who long our blood have sought

   Bring Thou to nought.


   Do Thou Thyself for us Thy children fight,

   Withstand the devil, quell his rage and might,

   Whate'er assails Thy members left below

   Do Thou o'erthrow.


   And give us peace; peace in the church and school,

   Peace to the powers who o'er our country rule,

   Peace to the conscience, peace within the heart,

   Do Thou impart.


   So shall Thy goodness here be still adored,

   Thou guardian of Thy little flock, dear Lord,

   And heaven and earth through all eternity

   Shall worship Thee.
     __________________________________________________________________

Ascension Day.

   This same Jesus which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come,
   in like manner as ye have seen Him go into heaven.

   From the Epistle. [Acts 1:11]

   7,7,7,7

   Herr auf Erden muss ich leiden

   [92]Neumann. 1700.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Lord, on earth I dwell in pain;

   Here in anguish I must lie;

   Wherefore leav'st Thou me again,

   Why ascendest Thou on high?

   Take me, take me hence with Thee,

   Or abide, Lord, still in me;

   Let Thy love and gifts be left,

   That I be not all bereft.


   Leave Thy heart with me behind,

   Take mine hence with Thee away;

   Let my sighs an entrance find

   To Thy heaven whene'er I pray.

   When I cannot pray, oh plead

   With Thy Father in my stead;

   Seated now at God's right hand,

   Help us here Thy faithful band.


   Help me earthly toys to spurn,

   Raise my thoughts from things below;

   Mortal am I, yet I yearn

   Heavenly like my Lord to grow,

   That my time through faith may be

   Ordered for eternity;

   Till we meet, all perils o'er,

   Whither Thou hast gone before.


   In due season come again,

   As was promised us of old;

   Raise the members that have lain

   Gnawed of death beneath the mould,

   Judge the evil world that deems

   Thy sure words but empty dreams;

   Then for all our sorrows past,

   Let us know Thy joy at last.
     __________________________________________________________________

Sunday After Ascension Day.

   These all confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.
   . . . For they desired a better country, that is, an heavenly;
   wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; for He hath
   prepared for them a city.

   Heb. 11:13,16

   7,7,7,7,7,7

   Himmelwärts geht unsere Bahn

   [93]Schmolck. 1731.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Heavenward doth our journey tend,

   We are strangers here on earth,

   Through the wilderness we wend

   Towards the Canaan of our birth.

   Here we roam a pilgrim band,

   Yonder is our native land.


   Heavenward stretch, my soul, thy wings,

   Heavenly nature canst thou claim,

   There is nought of earthly things

   Worthy to be all thine aim;

   Every soul that God inspires

   Back to Him, its Source, aspires.


   Heavenward! doth His Spirit cry,

   When I hear Him in His Word,

   Showing thus the rest on high,

   Where I shall be with my Lord:

   When His Word fills all my thought,

   Oft to heaven my soul is caught.


   Heavenward ever would I haste,

   When Thy table, Lord, is spread;

   Heavenly strength on earth I taste,

   Feeding on the Living Bread;

   Such is e'en on earth our fare,

   Who Thy marriage feast shall share.


   Heavenward! Faith discerns the prize

   That is waiting us afar,

   And my heart would swiftly rise,

   High o'er sun and moon and star,

   To that Light behind the veil

   Where all earthly splendours pale.


   Heavenward Death shall lead at last,

   To the home where I would be,

   All my sorrows overpast,

   I shall triumph there with Thee,

   Jesus, who hast gone before,

   That we too might Heavenward soar.


   Heavenward! Heavenward! Only this

   Is my watchword on the earth;

   For the love of heavenly bliss

   Counting all things little worth.

   Heavenward all my being tends,

   Till in Heaven my journey ends.
     __________________________________________________________________

Whit Sunday

   I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter, that
   He may abide with you for ever, even the Spirit of Truth.

   From the Gospel. [Jn. 14:16-17]

   6,6,8,6,6,8,8,8,8

   Schmükt das Fest mit Maien

   [94]Schmolck. 1715.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Come, deck our feast today

   With flowers and wreaths of May,

   And bring an offering pure and sweet;

   The Spirit of all grace

   Makes earth His dwelling-place,

   Prepare your hearts your Lord to meet;

   Receive Him, and He shall outpour

   Such light, all hearts with joy run o'er,

   And sound of tears is heard no more.


   Thou harbinger of peace,

   Who makest sorrows cease,

   Wisdom in word and deed is Thine;

   Strong hand of God, Thy seal

   The loved of Jesus feel;

   Pure light, o'er all our pathway shine!

   Give vigorous life and healthy powers,

   O let Thy sevenfold gifts be ours,

   Refresh us with Thy gracious showers!


   O touch our tongues with flame,

   When speaking Jesu's name!

   And lead us up the heavenward road.

   Give us the power to pray,

   Teach us what words to say,

   Whene'er we come before our God.

   O Highest Good, our spirits cheer,

   When raging foes are strong and near,

   Give us brave hearts undimmed by fear.


   O golden rain from heaven!

   Thy precious dews be given

   To bless the churches' barren field!

   And let Thy waters flow,

   Where'er the sowers sow,

   The seed of truth, that it may yield

   A hundred-fold its living fruit,

   O'er all the land may take deep root,

   And mighty branches heavenward shoot.


   Thou fiery glow of Love!

   Let us Thy ardours prove,

   Consume our hearts with quenchless fire!

   Come, O Thou trackless Wind!

   Breathe gently o'er our mind!

   Nor let the flesh to rule aspire;

   Help us our free-born right to take,

   The heavy yoke of sin to break,

   And all her tempting paths forsake.


   Be it Thine to stir our will;

   Our good intents fulfil;

   Be with us when we go and come;

   Deep in our spirits dwell,

   And make their inmost cell

   Thy temple pure, Thy holy home!

   Teach us to know our Lord, that we

   May call His Father ours through Thee,

   Thou Pledge of glories yet to be!


   Oh make our crosses sweet,

   And let Thy sunshine greet

   Our longing eyes in clouded hours!

   Wing Thou our upward flight

   Toward yonder mountain bright,

   Girded about with Zion's golden towers!

   Forsake us not when our last foe

   Puts forth his stength to lay us low,

   Then joyful victory bestow!


   Let us, while here we dwell,

   This one thought ponder well,

   That in God's likeness we are made.

   As o'er a fruitful land

   Rich harvests waving stand,

   We, serving Him, bear fruits that never fade,

   Till Thou in whom all comfort lies,

   Lift us to fields above the skies,

   And bid us bloom in Paradise!
     __________________________________________________________________

Monday in Whitsun-Week.

   Would God that all the Lord's people were prophets, and that the Lord
   would put His Spirit upon them!

   From the Lesson. [Num. 11:29]

   8,6,8,6,8,8,8,6

   Zeuch ein zu deinen Thoren

   [95]Paul Gerhardt. During the 30 Years' War.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Come to Thy temple here on earth,

   Be Thou my spirit's guest,

   Who givest us of mortal birth

   A second birth more blest;

   Spirit beloved, Thou mighty Lord,

   Who with the Father and the Son

   Reignest upon an equal throne,

   Art equally adored!


   Oh enter, let me feel and know

   Thy mighty power within,

   That can alone our help bestow,

   And rescue us from sin.

   Oh cleanse my soul and make it white,

   That I with heart unstained and true,

   May daily render service due,

   And honour Thee aright.


   I was a wild unfruitful vine

   Which Thou shouldst prune and train;

   Death pierced through all this life of min,

   But Thou my foe hast slain.

   Thy holy baptism is his grave,

   He perishes beneath the flood

   Of His most precious death and blood,

   Who died our life to save.


   Thou art the Spirit who dost teach

   To pray aright, for all

   Our prayers are heard if Thou beseech,

   Thy songs have sweetest fall.

   They soar on tireless wings to heaven,

   They fail not from before God's throne,

   Till all His goodness we have known

   By whom all help is given.


   Thou art the Spirit of all joy,

   Sadness Thou lovest not;

   Thy comfort beaming from on high,

   Lights up the darkest lot.

   Ah yes, how many a time of old

   Thy voice hath rapt my soul away,

   To yon bright halls of endless day,

   And oped the gates of gold!


   Thou art the Spirit of all love,

   The Friend of all kindly life,

   Thou wouldst not that our hearts should prove

   The pangs of wrath and strife.

   Thou hatest hatred's withering reign,

   In souls that discord maketh dark

   Dost Thou rekindle love's bright spark,

   And make them one again.


   On Thee is all this world upstaid,

   And in Thy hands doth rest;

   And Thou canst wayward hearts persuade

   To turn as seems Thee best:

   Oh therefore give Thy love and peace,

   That they may join in strongest bands

   Long parted foes, and through our lands

   These sad divisions cease.


   Thou art the true, the only Source

   Whence concord comes to men;

   Oh that Thy power might have free course

   And bring us peace again!

   Oh hear, and stem this mighty flood

   That o'er us death and sorrow spreads;

   Alas! each day afresh it sheds

   Like water human blood.


   And let our nation learn to know

   What, and how deep, our sin;

   Nay, let God's judgments come, if so

   A fire be lit within

   The hearts that loved themselves to please;

   In bitter shame now let them burn,

   And loving Thee, repentant spurn

   Their selfish worldly ease.


   Grace for the contrite heart abounds,

   Joy to the sad is given;

   To serve God's truth will heal our wounds,

   And bring us help from heaven;

   Lord, for Thine honour's sake, make known

   Thy power, convert the wicked now,

   And teach the hard to weep, for Thou

   Canst soften steel and stone!


   Arise and make an end of all

   Our heartache, and our pain;

   Thy wandering flock at last recall

   And grant them joy again;

   To peace and wealth the land restore,

   Wasted with fire or plague or sword;

   Come to Thy ruined churches, Lord,

   And bid them bloom once more!


   The rulers of our land defend,

   Our sovereign's throne uphold;

   That he and we may prosper, send

   True wisdom to the old;

   With piety the young men bless,

   And through the nation shed abroad

   True virtue and the fear of God,

   A nation's happiness.


   Fill every heart with holy zeal

   To keep the faith unstained;

   Let house and land Thy blessing feel,

   Whence all true wealth is gained.

   Him who resists Thy inward powers,

   The Evil Spirit, make Thou flee;

   Whate'er delights Thy heart, would he

   Fain root from out of ours.


   Give strong and cheerful hearts to stand

   Undaunted in the wars

   That Satan's fierce and mighty band

   Is waging with Thy cause.

   Help us to fight as warriors brave,

   That we may conquer in the field,

   And not one Christian man may yield

   His soul to sin a slave.


   Order according to Thy mind

   Our life from day to day,

   And when this life must be resigned,

   And death has seized his prey,

   When all our days have fleeted by,

   Help us to die with fearless spirit,

   And let us after death inherit

   Eternal life on high.
     __________________________________________________________________

Tuesday in Whitsun-Week.

   Hereby know ye the Spirit of God. Every spirit that confesseth that
   Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is of God.

   From the Lesson. [1 Jn. 4:2]

   8,8,8,8,8,8,8+4,4

   Komm Heil'ger Geist, Herre Gott

   [96]Luther. 1524.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Come, Holy Spirit, God and Lord,

   Be all Thy graces now outpoured

   On the believer's mind and soul,

   And touch our hearts with living coal.

   Thy Light this day shone forth so clear,

   All tongues and nations gathered near,

   To learn that faith, for which we bring

   Glad praise to Thee, and loudly sing,

   Hallelujah, Hallelujah!


   Thou Strong Defence, Thou Holy Light,

   Teach us to know our God aright,

   And call Him Father from the heart:

   The Word of life and truth impart,

   That we may love not doctrines strange,

   Nor e'er to other teachers range,

   But Jesus for our Master own

   And put our trust in Him alone.

   Hallelujah, Hallelujah!


   Thou Sacred Ardour, Comfort Sweet,

   Help us to wait with ready feet

   And willing heart at Thy command,

   Nor trial fright us from Thy band.

   Lord, make us ready with Thy powers,

   Strengthen the flesh in weaker hours,

   That as good warriors we may force

   Through life and death to Thee our course.

   Hallelujah, Hallelujah!
     __________________________________________________________________

Trinity Sunday.

   And God said, Let us make man in our image.

   From the Lesson. [Gen. 1:26]

   8,6,8,6,8,8,8,8

   Hochheilige Dreieinigkeit

   [97]Angelus. 1657.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Most High and Holy Trinity!

   Who of Thy mercy mild

   Hast formed me here in Time, to be

   Thy image and Thy child:

   Oh let me love Thee day and night

   With all my soul, with all my might;

   Oh come, Thyself my soul prepare,

   And make Thy dwelling ever there!


   Father! replenish with Thy grace

   This longing heart of mine,

   Make it Thy quiet dwelling-place,

   Thy sacred inmost shrine!

   Forgive that oft my spirit wears

   Her time and strenght in trivial cares,

   Enfold her in Thy changeless peace,

   So she from all but Thee may cease!


   Oh God the Son! Thy wisdom's light

   On my dark reason pour;

   Forgive that things of sense and sight

   Were all her joy of yore;

   Henceforth let every thought and deed

   On Thee be fixed, from Thee proceed,

   Draw me to Thee, for I would rise

   Above these earthly vanities!


   Oh Holy Ghost! Thou fire of love,

   Enkindle with Thy flame my will;

   Come with Thy strength, Lord, from above,

   Help me Thy bidding to fulfil:

   Forgive that I so oft have done

   What I as sinful ought to shun;

   Let me with pure and quenchless fire

   Thy favour and Thyself desire!


   Most High and Holy Trinity!

   Draw me away far hence,

   And fix upon eternity

   All powers of soul and sense!

   Make me at one within; at one

   With Thee on earth; when life is done

   Take me to dwell in light with Thee,

   Most High and Holy Trinity!
     __________________________________________________________________

First Sunday after Trinity.

   God is love . . . and herein is love, not that we loved God, but that
   He loved us.

   From the Epistle. [1 Jn. 4:10]

   8,8,8,8,10,10

   Geht hin ihr gläubigen Gedanken

   [98]J. G. Hermann. 1747.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   O wings of faith, ye thoughts, fly hence,

   Roam o'er Eternity's vast field,

   Surpass the bounds of time and sense,

   And rise to Him, who hath revealed

   That He is Love: there pause, and awestruck view

   That ancient love with every morning new!


   Ere earth's foundations yet were laid,

   Or heaven's fair roof was spread abroad,

   Ere man a living soul was made,

   Love stirred within the heart of God;

   Love filled the long futurity with good,

   And grace to help at need beside her stood.


   'Twas Love whose counsel gave to me

   True life in Christ Thy only son,

   Whom Thou hast made our Way to Thee,

   From whom all grace flows ever down;

   Whose sacrifice can make us pure and whole,

   And bless and hallow all our inmost soul.


   'Twas Love, that long ere time began,

   That precious name of child bestowed;

   That opened Heaven on earth to man,

   And called us sinners sons of God;

   Whose gracious promptings move the Father's hand,

   That on the page of life our names may stand!


   Ah happy hours, whene'er upsprings

   My soul to yon Eternal Source,

   Whence the glad river downward sings,

   Watering with goodness all my course,

   So that each passing day anew I prove

   How tender and how true my Father's love!


   For what am I? At His command

   The million creatures of His power

   Start to life on sea and land;

   Oh why should God such blessings shower

   On me, who am a leaf that fadeth fast,

   A little shifting dust before the blast!


   I am not worthy, Lord, that Thou

   Shouldst such compassion on me show;

   That He who made the world should bow

   To cheer with love a wretch so low.

   O Father, I would utterly resign

   Myself to Thee; take me, and make me Thine.


   When strength and heart grow faint and sad,

   From battling long with heavy pain,

   Thy smile shines forth to make me glad,

   Thou crownest me with joy again;

   Then I behold Thy Spirit's wondrous power,

   Whose work is mightiest in our weakest hour.


   Forth from Thy rich and bounteous store

   Life's common blessings daily flow;

   More than we dare to ask, far more

   That we deserve, dost Thou bestow.

   My heart dissolves in tears of thankfulness,

   To see how true Thy care, how quick to bless.


   Nor here alone: hope pierces far

   Through all the shades of earth and time;

   Faith mounts beyond the farthest star,

   Yon shining heights she loves to climb,

   And gazing on eternity behold

   The promised land, our heritage of old.


   Can I with loveless heart receive

   Tokens of love that never cease?

   Can I be thankless still, and grieve

   Him who is all my joy and peace?

   Ah Friend of Man, were I to turn from Thee,

   Myself were sure my own worst enemy.


   Could I but honour Thee aright,

   Noble and sweet my song should be,

   That earth and heaven should learn Thy might,

   And what my God hath done for me.

   There is no music sweet as is Thy name,

   No joy so deep as pondering o'er Thy fame.


   O heart redeemed! thou think'st it long

   Till the appointed hour be come,

   When thou shalt join the angels' song

   To that Fair Love that brought thee home.

   Have patience, heart; time hurries fast away,

   Soon shalt thou reach the one Eternal Day.
     __________________________________________________________________

Second Sunday after Trinity.

   And this is His commandment; That we should believe on the name of His
   Son Jesus Christ, and love one another, as He gave us commandment.

   From the Epistle. [1 Jn. 3:23]

   7,7,7,7

   Herz und Herz vereint zusammen

   After [99]Zinzendorf. About 1731.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Heart and heart together bound,

   Seek in God your true repose,

   In your love the price be found

   Of your Saviour's love and woes;

   We the members, He the Head,

   He the sun, we beams He showers,

   Brethren by one Master led,

   We are His, and he is ours.


   Children of His realm draw near,

   Make your covenant stronger still,

   From your hearts allegiance swear

   Unto Him who conquered ill.

   If your bonds are yet too weak,

   If but fragile yet they prove,

   Help from His good Spirit seek

   Who can steel the chains of love.


   Only such love will suffice,

   As the love that dwells in Him,

   Love that from the cross ne'er flies,

   Love that spares not life or limb;

   'Twas for sinners He was slain,

   'Twas for foes He shed His blood,

   That His death for all might gain

   Endless life--the Highest Good.


   Thus, O truest Friend, unite

   All Thy consecrated band,

   That their hearts be set aright

   To fulfil Thy last command.

   Each must onward urge his friend,

   Helping him in word and deed,

   Love's blest pathway to ascend,

   Following on where Thou dost lead.


   Thou who dost command that all

   Practise love who bear Thy name,

   Wake the dead, new followers call,

   Touch the slothful with Thy flame.

   Let us live, O Lord, at one,

   As Thou with the Father art,

   That through all the world be none

   Of Thy members left apart.


   Then were given what Thou hast sought,

   In the Son were all men freed,

   And the world at last were taught

   That Thy rule is blest indeed.

   Father of all souls, we praise

   Thee who shinest in the Son;

   Lord, to Thee our hymns we raise,

   Who hast all men to Thee drawn!
     __________________________________________________________________

Third Sunday after Trinity.

   Cast all your care upon Him, for He careth for you.

   From the Epistle. [1 Pet. 5:7]

   7,7,7,7

   Was von aussen und von innen

   after [100]A. H. Franke (1663-1727).

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   What within me and without,

   Hourly on my spirit weighs,

   Burdening heart and soul with doubt,

   Darkening all my weary days:

   In it I behold Thy will,

   God, who givest rest and peace,

   And my heart is calm and still,

   Waiting till Thou send release.


   God! Thou art my rock of strength,

   And my home is in Thine arms,

   Thou wilt send me help at length,

   And I feel no wild alarms.

   Sin nor Death can pierce the shield

   Thy defence has o'er me thrown,

   Up to Thee myself I yield,

   And my sorrows are Thine own.


   Thou my shelter from the blast,

   Thou my strong defence art ever;

   Though my sorrows thicken fast,

   Yet I know Thou leav'st me never;

   When my foe puts forth his might,

   And would tread me in the dust,

   To this rock I take my flight,

   And I conquer him through trust.


   When my trials tarry long,

   Unto Thee I look and wait,

   Knowing none, though keen and strong,

   Can my faith in Thee abate.

   And this faith I long have nurst,

   Comes alone, O Lord, from Thee;

   Thou my heart didst open first,

   Thou didst set this hope in me.


   Christians! cast on Him your load,

   To your tower of refuge fly;

   Know He is the Living God,

   Ever to His creatures nigh.

   Seek His ever-open door

   In your hours of utmost need;

   All your hearts before Him pour,

   He will send you help with speed.


   But hast thou some darling plan,

   Cleaving to the things of earth?

   Leanest thou for aid on man?

   Thou wilt find him nothing worth.

   Rather trust the One alone

   Whose is endless power and love,

   And the help He gives His own,

   Thou in very deed shalt prove.


   Yea, on Thee, my God, I rest,

   Letting life float calmly on,

   For I know the last is best,

   When the crown of joy is won.

   In Thy might all things I bear,

   In Thy love find bitters sweet,

   And with all my grief and care

   Sit in patience at Thy feet.


   O my soul, why art thou vexed?

   Let things go as e'en they will;

   Though to thee they seem perplexed,

   Yet His order they fulfil.

   Here He is thy strength and guard,

   Power to harm thee here has none;

   Yonder will He each reward

   For the works he here has done.


   Let Thy mercy's wings be spread

   O'er me, keep me close to Thee,

   In the peace Thy love doth shed,

   Let me dwell eternally.

   Be my All; in all I do

   Let me only seek Thy will,

   Where the heart to Thee is true,

   All is peaceful, calm, and still.
     __________________________________________________________________

Fourth Sunday after Trinity.

   I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be
   compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us.

   From the epistle. [Rom. 8:18]

   10,6,6,10,10,4

   Wer hofft mit Christo dort zu erben

   [101]Simon Dach. 1640.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Wouldst thou inherit life with Christ on high?

   Then count the cost, and know

   That here on earth below

   Thou needs must suffer with thy Lord and die.

   We reach that gain to which all else is loss,

   But through the cross.


   Oh think what sorrows Christ himself has known!

   The scorn, and anguish sore,

   The bitter death He bore,

   Ere He ascended to His heavenly throne;

   And deemest thou, thou canst with right complain,

   Whate'er thy pain?


   Not e'en the sharpest sorrows we can feel,

   Nor keenest pangs, we dare

   With that great bliss compare

   When God His glory shall in us reveal,

   That shall endure when our brief woes are o'er

   For evermore!
     __________________________________________________________________

Fifth Sunday after Trinity.

   And who is he that will harm you, if ye be followers of that which is
   good? But and if ye suffer for righteousness' sake, happy are ye; and
   be not afraid of their terror, neither be troubled; but sanctify the
   Lord God in your hearts.

   From the Epistle. [1 Pet. 3:13-14]

   6,6,8,6

   Ist Gott für mich so trete

   [102]Paul Gerhardt. 1650.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   If God be on my side,

   Then let who will oppose,

   For oft ere now to Him I cried,

   And he hath quelled my foes.

   If Jesus be my Friend,

   If God doth love me well,

   What matters all my foes intend,

   Though strong they be and fell?


   Here I can firmly rest,

   I dare to boast of this,

   That God the Highest and the Best,

   My Friend and Father is.

   From dangerous snares He saves,

   Where'er He bids me go

   He checks the storms and calms the waves,

   That nought can work me woe.


   I rest upon the ground

   Of Jesus and His blood,

   For 'tis through Him that I have found

   The True Eternal Good.

   Nought have I of mine own,

   Nought in the life I lead,

   What Christ hath given me, that alone

   Is worth all love indeed.


   His Spirit in me dwells,

   O'er all my mind He reigns,

   All care and sadness He dispels,

   And soothes away all pains.

   He prospers day by day

   His work within my heart,

   Till I have strength and faith to say,

   Thou God my Father art!


   When weakness on me lies,

   And tempts me to despair,

   He speaketh words and utters sighs

   Of more than mortal prayer;

   But what no tongue can tell,

   Thou God canst hear and see,

   Who readest in the heart full well

   If aught there pleaseth Thee.


   He whispers in my breast

   Sweet words of holy cheer,

   How he who seeks in God his rest

   Shall ever find Him near;

   How God hath built above

   A city fair and new,

   Where eye and heart shall see and prove

   What faith has counted true.


   There is prepared on high

   My heritage, my lot;

   Though here on earth I sink and die,

   My heaven shall fail me not.

   Though here my days are dark,

   And oft my tears must rain,

   Whene'er my Saviour's Light I mark,

   Lo, all is bright again.


   Who joins him to that Lord

   Whom Satan flies and hates,

   Shall find himself despised, abhorred,

   For him the burden waits

   Of mockery and shame,

   Heaped on his guiltless head;

   And crosses, trials, cruel blame,

   Shall be his daily bread.


   I knew it long ere now,

   Yet am I not afraid;

   The God to whom I pledged my vow,

   Will surely send His aid.

   At cost of all I have,

   At cost of life and limb,

   I cling to God who yet shall save,

   I will not turn from Him.


   The world may fail and flee,

   Thou standest fast for ever,

   Nor fire, nor sword, nor plague, from Thee

   My trusting soul shall sever.

   No hunger, and no thirst,

   No poverty or pain,

   Let mighty princes do their worst,

   Shall fright me back again.


   No joys that angels know,

   No throne or wide-spread fame,

   No love or loss, no fear or woe,

   No grief of heart or shame--

   Man cannot aught conceive

   Of pleasure or of harm

   That e'er could tempt my soul to leave

   Her refuge in Thine arm.


   My heart for gladness springs,

   It cannot more be sad,

   For very joy it laughs and sings,

   Sees nought but sunshine glad.

   The sun that glads mine eyes

   Is Christ the Lord I love,

   I sing for joy of that which lies

   Stored up for us above.
     __________________________________________________________________

Sixth Sunday after Trinity.

   Know ye not, that so many of us as were baptized into Christ, were
   baptized into His death?

   From the Epistle. [Rom. 6:3]

   9,8,9,8

   O der alles hätt verloren

   [103]Anon.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Well for him who all things losing,

   E'en himself doth count as nought,

   Still the one thing needful choosing

   That with all true bliss is fraught!


   Well for him who nothing knoweth

   But his God, whose boundless love

   Makes the heart wherein it gloweth,

   Calm and pure as saints above!


   Well for him who all forsaking

   Walketh not in shadows vain,

   But the path of peace is taking

   Through this vale of tears and pain!


   Oh that we our hearts might sever

   From earth's tempting vanities,

   Fixing them on Him for ever

   In whom all our fulness lies!


   Oh that we might Him discover

   Whom with longing love we've sought,

   Joining us to Him for ever,

   For without Him all is nought!


   Oh that ne'er our eyes might wander

   From our God, so might we cease

   Ever o'er our sins to ponder,

   And our conscience be at peace!


   Thou abyss of love and goodness,

   Draw us by Thy cross to Thee,

   That our senses, soul, and spirit

   Ever one with Christ may be!
     __________________________________________________________________

Seventh Sunday after Trinity.

   O Lord, how manifold are Thy works; in wisdom hast Thou made them all;
   the earth is full of Thy riches.

   Psalm 104:24

   8,8,6,8,8,6

   Geh aus, mein Herz, und suche Freud

   [104]Paul Gerhardt. 1659.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Go forth, my heart, and seek delight

   In all the gifts of God's great might,

   These pleasant summer hours:

   Look how the plains for thee and me

   Have decked themselves most fair to see,

   All bright and sweet with flowers.


   The trees stand thick and dark with leaves,

   And earth o'er all here dust now weaves

   A robe of living green;

   Nor silks of Solomon compare

   With glories that the tulips wear,

   Or lilies' spotless sheen.


   The lark soars singing into space,

   The dove forsakes her hiding-place,

   And coos the woods among;

   The richly-gifted nightingale,

   Pours forth her voice o'er hill and dale,

   And floods the fields with song.


   Here with her brood the hen doth walk,

   There builds and guards his nest the stork,

   The fleet-winged swallows pass;

   The swift stag leaves his rocky home,

   And down the light deer bounding come

   To taste the long rich grass.


   The brooks rush gurgling through the sand,

   And from the trees on either hand,

   Cool shadows o'er them fall;

   The meadows at their side are glad

   With herds; and hark! the shepherd lad

   Sends forth his mirthful call.


   And humming, hovering to and fro,

   The never-wearied swarms no go

   To seek their honey'd food;

   And through the vine's yet feeble shoots

   Stream daily upwards from her roots

   New strength and juices good.


   The corn springs up, a wealth untold,

   A sight to gladden young and old,

   Who now their voices lift

   To Him who gives such plenteous store,

   And makes the cup of life run o'er

   With many a noble gift.


   Thy mighty working, mighty God,

   Wakes all my powers; I look abroad

   And can no longer rest:

   I too must sing when all things sing,

   And from my heart the praises ring

   The Highest loveth best.


   I think, Art Thou so good to us,

   And scatterest joy and beauty thus

   O'er this poor earth of ours;

   What nobler glories shall be given

   Hereafter in Thy shining heaven,

   Set round with golden towers!


   What thrilling joy when on our sight

   Christ's garden beams in cloudless light,

   Where all the air is sweet,

   Still laden with the unwearied hymn

   From all the thousand seraphim

   Who God's high praise repeat!


   Oh were I there! Oh that I now,

   Dear God, before Thy throne could bow,

   And bear my heavenly palm!

   Then like the angels would I raise

   My voice, and sing Thy endless praise

   In many a sweet-toned psalm.


   Nor can I now, O God, forbear,

   Though still this mortal yoke I wear,

   To utter oft Thy name;

   But still my heart is bent to speak

   Thy praises; still, though poor and weak,

   Would I Thy love proclaim.


   But help me; let Thy heavenly showers

   Revive and bless my fainting powers,

   And let me thrive and grow

   Beneath the summer of Thy grace,

   And fruits of faith bud forth apace

   While yet I dwell below.


   And set me, Lord, in Paradise

   When I have bloomed beneath these skies

   Till my last leaf is flown;

   Thus let me serve Thee here in time,

   And after, in that happier clime,

   And Thee, my God, alone!
     __________________________________________________________________

Eighth Sunday after Trinity.

   Brethren, we are debters, not to the flesh, to live after the flesh.
   For if ye live after the flesh, ye shall die; but if ye through the
   Spirit do mortify the deeds of the body, ye shall live.

   From the Epistle. [Rom. 8:12-13]

   10,10,10,10,10,10

   O Gott, o Geist, o Licht des Lebens

   [105]Gerhard Tersteegen. 1731.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   O God, O Spirit, Light of all that live,

   Who dost on us that sit in darkness shine,

   Our darkness ever with Thy Light dost strive,

   In vain Thou lur'st us with Thy beams divine;

   Yet none, O Spirit, from Thine eye can hide,

   Gladly [will] I Thy searching glance abide.


   Search all my hidden parts, whate'er impure

   Thy Light discovers there, do Thou destroy;

   The bitterst pain I willingly endure,

   Such pain is followed by eternal joy;

   Thou'lt cleanse me from my stains of darkest hue,

   And in Christ's image form my soul anew.


   I cannot stay the venomed power of sin,

   'Tis Thy anointing only can avail;

   Oh make my spirit new and right within,

   Without Thee all my utmost efforts fail.

   Life to my cold dead soul I cannot give,

   Be Thou my life, so only shall I live.


   O Breath from out the Eternal Silence, blow

   All softly o'er my spirit's barren ground,

   The precious fulness of my God bestow,

   That where erst sin and shame alone were found,

   Faith, love, and holy reverence may upspring,

   In spirit and in truth to worship God our King.


   Oh let my thoughts, my actions and my will

   Obedient solely to Thy impulse move,

   My heart and senses keep Thou blameless still,

   Fixed and absorbed in God's unuttered love.

   Thy praying, teaching, striving, in my heart,

   Let me not quench, nor make Thee to depart.


   O Fount, O Spirit, who dost take and show

   Things of the Son to us, who crystal clear

   From God's throne and the Lamb's doth ceaseless flow

   Into the quiet hearts that seek Thee here,

   I open wide my mouth, and thirsting sink

   Beside Thy stream, its living waves to drink.


   I give myself to Thee, to Thee alone,

   From all else sundered, Thou art ever near,

   The creature and myself I all disown,

   Trusting with inmost faith that God is here!

   O God, O Spirit, Light of Life, we see

   None ever wait in vain, who wait for Thee.
     __________________________________________________________________

Ninth Sunday after Trinity.

   How long halt ye between two opinions? If the Lord be God, follow Him;
   but if Baal, then follow him.

   From the Lesson. [1 Kings 18:21]

   8,8,8,8,8,8,2

   Was kinket ihr betrognen Seelen

   [106]Lehr. 1733.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Why halt thus, O deluded heart,

   Why waver longer in thy choice?

   Is it so hard to choose the part

   Offered by Heaven's entreating voice?

   Oh look with clearer eyes again,

   Nor strive to enter in, in vain.

   Press on!


   Remember, 'tis not Caesar's throne,

   Nor earthly honour, wealth or might

   Whereby God's favour shall be show

   To him who conquers in the fight;

   Himself and an eternity

   Of bliss and rest he offers thee.

   Press on!


   God crowneth no divided heart;

   To Him oh hallow all thy life!

   Who loveth Jesus but in part,

   he works himself much pain and strife,

   And gains what he deserveth well,

   Here conflict, and hereafter hell.

   Press on!


   Who wrestling long, with many a cry

   Can bid farewell at last to all,

   Yet ever loves the Lord most High,

   Loves Him alone whate'er befall,

   Is counted worthy of the crown,

   And on a kingly throne set down.

   Press on!


   Then break the rotten bonds away

   That hinder you your race to run,

   That make you linger oft and stay;

   Oh be your course afresh begun!

   Let no false rest your soul deceive,

   Up! 'tis a Heaven ye must receive!

   Press on!


   Omnipotence is on your side,

   And Wisdom watches o'er your heads,

   And God Himself will be your guide

   So ye but follow where He leads;

   How many guided by His hand,

   Have reached ere now their father-land!

   Press on!


   Nor let the body dull the soul,

   Its weakness, fears, and sloth despise;

   Man toils and roams from pole to pole

   To gain some earthly fleeting prize,

   The Highest Good he little cares

   To win, or striving soon despairs.

   Press on!


   Oh help each other, hasten on,

   Behold the goal is nigh at hand;

   The battle-field shall soon be won,

   Your King shall soon before you stand!

   To calmest rest He leads you now,

   And sets His crown upon your brow.

   Press on!
     __________________________________________________________________

Tenth Sunday after Trinity.

   As the hart panteth after the water brooks, even so panteth my soul
   after Thee, O God.

   Psalm 47:1

   8,8,8,8

   Nach dir, o Gott verlanget mich

   [107]Anton Ulrich, Duke of Brunswick. 1667.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   O God, I long Thy Light to see,

   My God, I hourly think on Thee;

   Oh draw me up, nor hide Thy face,

   But help me from Thy holy place.


   As toward her sun the sunflower turns,

   Towards Thee, my Sun my spirit yearns;

   Oh would that free from sin I might

   Thus follow evermore Thy Light!


   But sin hath so within me wrought,

   Such deadly sickness on me brought,

   My languid soul sits drooping here

   And cannot reach the heavenly sphere.


   Ah how shall I my freedom win?

   How break this heavy yoke of sin?

   My fainting spirit thirsts for Thee,

   Come, Lord, to help and set me free.


   My heart is set to do Thy will,

   But all my deeds are faulty still;

   My best attempts are nothing worth,

   But soiled with cleaving taint of earth.


   Remember that I am Thy child,

   Forgive whate'er my soul defiled,

   Blot out my sins, that I may rise

   Freely to Thee beyond the skies.


   Help me to love the world no more,

   Be Master of my house and store,

   The shield of faith around me throw,

   And break the arrows of my foe.


   Fain would my heart henceforward be

   Fixed, O my God, alone on Thee,

   That heart and soul by Thee possest,

   May find in Thee their perfect rest.


   Begone, ye pleasures false and vain,

   Untasted, undesired remain!

   In heaven alone those joys abound,

   Where all my true delight is found.


   Oh take away whate'er has stood

   Between me and the Highest Good;

   I ask no better boon than this,

   To find in God my only bliss.
     __________________________________________________________________

Eleventh Sunday after Trinity.

   In Thy presence is fulness of joy; at Thy right hand there are
   pleasures for evermore.

   Psalm 16:12

   8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8

   Wie wohl ist mir o Freund der Seelen

   [108]Wolfgang C. Deszler. 1692.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   O Friend of Souls, how well is me,

   Whene'er Thy love my spirit calms!

   From sorrow's dungeon forth I flee,

   And hide me in Thy shelt'ring arms.

   The night of weeping flies away

   Before the heart-reviving ray

   Of love, that beams from out Thy breast;

   Here is my heaven on earth begun;

   Who were not joyful had he won

   In Thee, O God, his joy and rest!


   The world may call herself my foe,

   So be it; for I trust her not,

   E'en though a friendly face she show,

   And with her bounties heap my lot.

   In Thee alone will I rejoice,

   Thou art the Friend, Lord, of my choice,

   For Thou art true when friendships fail;

   'Mid storms of woe Thy truth is still

   My anchor; hate me as it will,

   The world shall o'er me ne'er prevail.


   Through deserts of the cross Thou leadest,

   I follow leaning on Thy hand;

   From out the clouds Thy child Thou feedest,

   And giv'st him water from the sand.

   I know Thy wondrous ways will end

   In love and blessing, Thou true Friend,

   Enough if Thou art ever near!

   I know, whom Thou wilt glorify,

   And raise o'er sun and stars on high,

   Thou lead'st through depths and darkness here.


   To others Death seems dark and grim,

   But not, Thou Life of life, to me;

   I know Thou ne'er forsakest him

   Whose heart and spirit rest in Thee.

   Oh who would fear his journey's close,

   If from dark woods and lurking foes,

   He then found safety and release?

   Nay, rather with a joyful heart

   From this dark region I depart

   To Thy eternal light and peace.


   O Friend of souls, then well indeed

   Is me, when on Thy love I lean!

   The world, nor pain, nor death I heed,

   Since Thou, my God, my joy hast been.

   Oh let this peace that Thou hast given

   Be but a foretaste of Thy heaven,

   For goodness infinite is Thine.

   Hence, world, with all thy flattering toys!

   In God alone be all my joys;

   Oh rich delight, my Friend is mine!
     __________________________________________________________________

Twelfth Sunday after Trinity.

   Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think anything as if of
   ourselves, but our sufficiency is of God.

   From the Epistle. [2 Cor. 3:5]

   8,7,8,7,6,6,8,6,6,8

   Wer sich auf seiner Schwachkeit steurt

   [109]Marperger. 1713.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Who seeks in weakness an excuse,

   His sins will vanquish never;

   Unless he heart and mind renews,

   He is deceived for ever.

   The strait and narrow way,

   That shines to perfect day,

   He hath not found, hath never trod;

   Little he knows, I ween,

   What prayer and conflict mean

   To one who hath the light of God.


   In what the world calls weakness lurks

   The very strength of evil,

   Full mightily it helps the works

   Of our great foe the devil.

   Awake, my soul, awake,

   Thy refuge quickly take

   With Him, the Almighty, who can save;

   One look from Christ thy Lord

   Can sever every cord

   That binds thee now, a wretched slave.


   Know, the first step in Christian lore

   Is to depart from sin;

   True faith will leave the world no more

   A place thy heart within.

   Thy Saviour's Spirit first

   The heavy bonds must burst,

   Wherein Death bound thee in thy need;

   Then the freed spirit know

   What strength He gives to those

   Who with their Lord are risen indeed.


   And why Thy Spirit, Lord, began

   Help Thou with inner might!

   Earth has no better gift for man

   Than strength and love of right.

   Oh make Thy followers just

   Who look to Thee in trust,

   Thy strength and justice let us know;

   Our souls through Thee would wear

   The power of grace, most fair

   Of all the jewels faith can show.


   Strong Son of God, break down Thy foes,

   So shall we conquer ours;

   Strong in the might from Thee that flows,

   We mourn not lack of powers,

   E'er since that from above,

   The witness of Thy love

   Thy Spirit cam, and doth abide

   With us, dispelling fear

   And falsehood, that we here

   May fight and conquer on Thy side.


   Give strength, whene'er our strength must fail;

   Give strength the flesh to curb;

   Give strength when craft and sin prevail

   To weaken and disturb.

   The world doth lay her snares

   To catch us unawares,

   Give strength to sweep them all away;

   So in our utmost need,

   And when death comes indeed,

   Thy strength shall be our perfect stay.
     __________________________________________________________________

Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity.

   Then Hezekiah received the letter of the hands of the messengers, and
   read it, and Hezekiah went up into the house of the Lord, and spread it
   before the Lord.

   From the Lesson. [Is. 37:14]

   8,8,8,8,8,8

   Wer nur den lieben Gott lässt walten

   [110]Neumarck. 1653.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Leave God to order all thy ways,

   And hope in Him whate'er betide,

   Thou'lt find Him in the evil days

   Thy all-sufficient strength and guide;

   Who trusts in God's unchanging love,

   Builds on the rock that nought can move.


   What can these anxious cares avail,

   These never-ceasing moans and sighs?

   What can it help us to bewail

   Each painful moment as it flies?

   Our cross and trials do but press

   The heavier for our bitterness.


   Only thy restless heart keep still,

   And wait in cheerful hope; content

   To take whate'er His gracious will,

   His all-discerning love hath sent;

   Nor doubt our inmost wants are known

   To Him who chose us for His own.


   He knows when joyful hours are best,

   He sends them as He sees it meet;

   When thou hast borne the fiery test,

   And now art freed from all deceit,

   He comes to thee all unaware,

   And makes thee own His loving care.


   Nor in the heat of pain and strife,

   Think God hath cast thee off unheard,

   And that the man, whose prosperous life

   Thou enviest, is of Him preferred;

   Time passes and much change doth bring,

   And sets a bound to everything.


   All are alike before His face;

   'Tis easy to our God most High

   To make the rich man poor and base,

   To give the poor man wealth and joy.

   True wonders still by Him are wrought,

   Who setteth up, and brings to nought.


   Sing, pray, and swerve not from His ways,

   But do thine own part faithfully,

   Trust His rich promises of grace,

   So shall they be fulfilled in thee;

   God never yet forsook in need

   The soul that trusted Him indeed.
     __________________________________________________________________

Fourteenth Sunday after Trinity.

   And they that are Christ's have crucified the flesh with the affections
   and lusts.

   From the Epistle. [Gal. 5:24]

   8,8,8,8

   Kreuz wir grüssen dich von Herzen

   [111]Gotter. 1697.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   O Cross, we hail thy bitter reign,

   O come, thou well-beloved guest!

   Whose sorest sufferings work not pain,

   Whose heaviest burden is but rest.


   For is not our Redeemer bound

   In closest ties of love to those

   Who faithful to the cross are found,

   Through ceaseless tears, through saddest woes?


   Hark, the confessors of the faith

   Yet of their cross and fetters boast;

   All saints have borne it to the death,

   With all the martyrs' radiant host.


   Pledge of our glorious home afar!

   Thee, Holy Sign, with joy we take,

   Sign of a peace life could not mar,

   Of just content death could not shake:


   The Sign how Truth, once crucified,

   Now throned in majesty doth reign,

   How Love is bless'd and glorified,

   That here on earth was mocked and slain.


   Their names are writ in words of light

   Who here on earth their Lord confest;

   They hear the bridegroom's cry at night,

   Come to my marriage feast, ye blest!


   Who then would faint, nor join to share

   In Christ's reproach, in want or pain?

   The bitterest death who would not dare?

   Who fears a martyr's crown to gain?


   Up, Brethren of the Cross! and haste

   Where Christ our Head hath gone before!

   We hymn His praise the while we taste

   The shame and death He sometime bore.


   In bonds and stripes, in falsest blame,

   Our crown, our dearest wealth we see,

   A dungeon were a throne, and shame

   Our chiefest glory, borne for Thee.


   What though the world on us may fling

   Its scorn, and oft we strive with death,

   The holy angels speed to bring

   Our help and strength, our victor's wreath.


   Up, quit the gates where sin abides,

   From earth's doomed cities quickly come,

   Yon eastern Star full surely guides

   All pilgrims to their Father's home.
     __________________________________________________________________

Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity.

   Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat, or what shall we
   drink . . for your Heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all
   these things.

   From the Gospel. [Matt. 6:31-32]

   8,8,8,8,10,10,4

   Gieb dich zufrieden

   [112]Paul Gerhardt. 1657.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Be thou content; be still before

   His face, at whose right hand doth reign

   Fulness of joy for evermore,

   Without whom all thy toil is vain.

   He is thy living spring, thy sun, whose rays

   Make glad with life and light thy dreary days.

   Be thou content.


   In Him is comfort, light and grace,

   And changeless love beyond our thought;

   The sorest pang, the worst disgrace,

   If He is there, shall harm thee not.

   He can lift off thy cross, and loose thy bands,

   And calm thy fears, nay, death is in His hands.

   Be thou content.


   Or art thou friendless and alone,

   Hast none in whom thou canst confide?

   God careth for thee, lonely one,

   Comfort and help will He provide.

   He sees thy sorrows and thy hidden grief,

   He knoweth when to send thee quick relief;

   Be thou content.


   Thy heart's unspoken pain He knows,

   Thy secret signs He hears full well,

   What to none else thou dar'st disclose,

   To Him thou mayst with boldness tell;

   He is not far away, but ever nigh,

   And answereth willingly the poor man's cry.

   Be thou content.


   Be not o'er-mastered by thy pain,

   But cling to God, thou shalt not fall;

   The floods sweep over thee in vain,

   Thou yet shalt rise above them all;

   For when thy trial seems to hard to bear,

   Lo! God, thy King, hath granted all thy prayer:

   Be thou content.


   Why art thou full of anxious fear

   How thou shalt be sustained and fed?

   He who hath made and placed thee here,

   Will give the needful daily bread;

   Canst thou not trust His rich and bounteous hand,

   Who feeds all living things on sea and land?

   Be thou content.


   He who doth teach the little birds

   To find their meat in field and wood,

   Who gives the countless flocks and herds

   Each day their needful drink and food,

   Thy hunger too will surely satisfy,

   And all thy wants in His good time supply.

   Be thou content.


   Sayst thou, I know not how or where,

   No help I see where'er I turn;

   When of all else we most despair,

   The riches of God's love we learn;

   When thou and I His hand no longer trace,

   He leads us forth into a pleasant place.

   Be thou content.


   Though long His promised aid delay,

   At last it will be surely sent:

   Though thy heart sink in sore dismay,

   The trial for thy good is meant.

   What we have won with pains we hold more fast,

   What tarrieth long is sweeter at the last.

   Be thou content.


   Lay not to heart whate'er of ill

   Thy foes may falsely speak of thee,

   Let man defame thee as he will,

   God hears, and judges righteously.

   Why shouldst thou fear, if God be on thy side,

   Man's cruel anger, or malicious pride?

   Be thou content.


   We know for us a rest remains,

   When God will give us sweet release

   From earth and all our mortal chains,

   And turn our sufferings into peace.

   Sooner or later death will surely come

   To end our sorrows, and to take us home:

   Be thou content.


   Home to the chosen ones, who here

   Served their Lord faithfully and well,

   Who died in peace, without a fear,

   And there in peace for ever dwell;

   The Everlasting is their joy and stay,

   The Eternal Word Himself to them doth say,

   Be thou content!
     __________________________________________________________________

Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity.

   And when the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her, and said unto her,
   Weep not!

   From the Gospel. [Lk. 7:13]

   4,8,7,7,8,4

   Lass dich Gott

   [113]Anton Ulrich, Duke of Brunswick. 1667.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Leave all to God,

   Forsaken one, and stay thy tears;

   For the Highest knows thy pain,

   Sees thy sufferings and thy fears

   Thou shalt not wait His help in vain,

   Leave all to God.


   Be still and trust!

   For His strokes are strokes of love,

   Thou must for thy profit bear;

   He thy filial fear would move,

   Trust thy Father's loving care,

   Be still and trust!


   Know, God is near!

   Though thou think Him far away,

   Though His mercy long have slept,

   He will come and not delay,

   When His child enough hath wept,

   For God is near!


   O teach Him not

   When and how to hear thy prayers;

   Never doth our God forget,

   He the cross who longest bears

   Finds his sorrows' bounds are set,

   Then teach Him not.


   If thou love Him,

   Walking truly in His ways,

   Then no trouble, cross or death,

   E'er shall silence faith and praise;

   All things serve thee here beneath,

   If thou love God!
     __________________________________________________________________

Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity.

   I beseech you that ye walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are
   called, with all lowliness and meekness, with long suffering,
   forbearing one another in love; endeavouring to keep the unity of the
   spirit in the bond of peace.

   From the Epistle. [Eph. 4:1-3]

   6,6,8,6

   Kommt Brüder lasst uns gehen

   [114]Gerhard Tersteegen. 1731.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Come, brethren, let us go!

   The evening closeth round,

   'Tis perilous to linger here

   On this wild desert ground.

   Come, towards eternity

   Press on from strength to strength,

   Nor dread your journey's toils nor length,

   For good its end shall be.


   We shall not rue our choice,

   Though straight our path and steep,

   We know that He who called us here

   His word shall ever keep.

   Then follow, trusting; come,

   And let each set his face

   Toward yonder fair and blessed place,

   Intent to reach our home.


   The body and the house

   Deck not, but deck the heart

   With all your powers; we are but guests,

   Ere long we must depart.

   Ease brings disease; content

   Howe'er his lot may fall,

   A pilgrim bears and bows to all,

   For soon the time is spent.


   Come, children, let us go!

   Our Father is our guide;

   And when the way grows steep and dark,

   He journeys at our side.

   Our spirits He would cheer,

   The sunshine of His love

   Revives and helps us as we rove,

   Ah, blest our lot e'en here!


   Each hasten bravely on,

   Not yet our goal is near;

   Look to the fiery pillar oft,

   That tells the Lord is here.

   Your glances onward send,

   Love beckons us, nor think

   That they who following chance to sink

   Shall miss their journey's end.


   Come, children, let us go!

   We travel hand in hand;

   Each in his brother finds his joy

   In this wild stranger land.

   As children let us be,

   Nor by the way fall out,

   The angels guard us round about,

   And help us brotherly.


   The strong be quick to raise

   The weaker when they fall;

   Let love and peace and patience bloom

   In ready help for all.

   In love yet closer bound,

   Each would be least, yet still

   On love's fair path most pure from ill,

   Most loving, would be found.


   Come, wander on with joy,

   For shorter grows the way,

   The hour that frees us from the flesh

   Draws nearer day by day.

   A little truth and love,

   A little courage yet,

   More free from earth, more apt to set

   Your hopes on things above.


   It will not last for long,

   A little farther roam;

   It will not last much longer now

   Ere we shall reach our home;

   There shall we ever rest,

   There with our Father dwell,

   With all the saints who served Him well,

   There truly, deeply blest.


   For this all things we dare,--

   'Tis worth the risk I trow,--

   Renouncing all that clogs our course,

   Or weighs us down below.

   O world, thou art too small,

   We seek another higher,

   Whither Christ guides us ever nigher,

   Where God is all in all.


   Friend of our perfect choice,

   Thou joy of all that live,

   Being that know'st not chance or change,

   What courage dost Thou give!

   All beauty, Lord, we see,

   All bliss and life and love,

   In Him in whom we love and move,

   And we are glad in Thee!
     __________________________________________________________________

Eighteenth Sunday after Trinity.

   Waiting for the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, who shall also confirm
   you unto the end.

   From the Epistle. [1 Cor. 1:7-8]

   Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things
   not seen.

   Heb. 11:1

   7,6,7,6

   Wenn alle untreu werden

   After [115]Novalis. about 1795.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Though all to Thee were faithless,

   I yet were true, my Head,

   To show that love is deathless,

   From earth not wholly fled.

   Here didst Thou live in sadness,

   And die in pain for me,

   For this I give with gladness

   My heart and soul to Thee.


   I could weep night and morning

   That Thou hast died, and yet

   So few will heed Thy warning,

   So many Thee forget.

   O loving and true-hearted,

   How much for us didst Thou!

   Yet is Thy fame departed,

   And none regards it now.


   But still Thy love befriends us,

   Of every heart the guide;

   Unfailing help it lends us,

   Thou all had turned aside.

   Oh! such love soon or later

   Must conquer, must be felt,

   Then at Thy feet the traitor

   In bitter tears shall melt.


   Lord, I have inly found Thee,

   Depart Thou not from me,

   But wrap Thy love around me,

   And keep me close to Thee.

   Once too my brethren, yonder

   Upgazing where Thou art,

   Shall learn Thy love with wonder,

   And sink upon Thy heart.
     __________________________________________________________________

Nineteenth Sunday after Trinity.

   But ye have not so learned Christ, if so be that ye have heard Him, and
   have been taught by Him, as the truth is in Jesus: that ye put off,
   concerning the former conversation, the old man, which is corrupt
   according to the deceitful lusts; and be renewed in the spirit of your
   mind; and that ye put on the new man, which after God is created in
   righteousness and true holiness.

   From the Epistle. [Eph. 4:20-24]

   8,8,8,8,8,8

   Wohl dem der sich mit Fleiss bemuhet

   [116]Anon.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Oh well for him who all things braves,

   A soldier of the Lord to be,

   Whom vice counts not among her slaves,

   From envy, pride, and passion free;

   Who wars against the world of sin

   Without him, and self-will within.


   Who follows Christ whate'er betide,

   Is worthy of a soldier's name;

   Is He thy Way, thy Light, thy Guide,

   'Tis meet thou also bear His shame;

   Who shrinks from dark Gethsemane,

   Shall Tabor's glories never see.


   What profits it that Christ hath deigned

   To wear our mortal nature thus,

   If we ourselves have ne'er attained

   That God reveal Himself in us?

   The pure and virgin soul alone

   He chooseth for His earthly throne.


   What profits it that Christ is born,

   And bringeth childhood back to men,

   Unless our long-lost right we mourn,

   And win through penitence again,

   And lead a God-like life on earth,

   As children of the second birth?


   What profits all that Christ hath taught,

   If man is slave to reason still,

   And worldly wisdom, honour, thought,

   Rule all his acts, and move his will?

   He follows what his Lord doth teach

   Who true denial of self would reach.


   What profit us His deeds and life,

   His meekness, love so quick to bless,

   If we give place to pride and strife,

   Dishonouring thus His holiness?

   What profits it, if for reward,

   And not in faith, we call Him Lord?


   What profits us His agony,

   If we endure not pain and scorn?

   'Tis combat brings forth victory,

   Of sorrow sweetest joys are born;

   And ne'er to him Christ's crown is given,

   Who hath not here with Adam striven.


   What profit ye His death and cross,

   Unless to self ye also die?

   Ye love your life to find it loss,

   Afraid the flesh to crucify.

   Wouldst live to this world still? Then know,

   His death to thee is barren show.


   What profit that He loosed and broke

   All bonds, if ye in league remain

   With earth? Who weareth Satan's yoke

   Shall call Him Master but in vain.

   Count ye the soul for reconciled,

   Yet slave to earth, by sin defiled?


   What profits it that He is risen,

   If dead in sins thou yet dost lie?

   If yet thou cleavest to thy prison,

   What profit that He dwells on high?

   His triumph will avail thee nought

   If thou hast ne'er the battle fought.


   Then live and suffer, do and bear,

   As Christ thy pattern here hath done,

   And seek His innocence to wear,

   That he may count thee of His own.

   Who loveth Christ cares but to win

   New triumphs o'er the world of sin.
     __________________________________________________________________

Twentieth Sunday after Trinity.

   Singing and making melody in your heart unto the Lord; giving thanks
   always for all things unto God and the Father, in the name our Lord
   Jesus Christ.

   From the Epistle. [Eph. 5:19-20]

   8,8,8,8,10,10

   O dass ich tausend Zungen hätte

   [117]Mentzer, 1704.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Oh would I had a thousand tongues,

   To sound Thy praise o'er land and sea!

   Oh! rich and sweet should be my songs,

   Of all my God has done for me!

   With thankfulness my heart must often swell,

   But mortal lips Thy praises faintly tell.


   Oh that my voice could far resound

   Up to yon stars that o'er me shine!

   Would that my blood for joy might bound

   Through every vein while life is mine!

   Would that each pulse were gratitude, each breath

   A song to Him who keeps me safe from death!


   O all ye powers of soul and mind,

   Arise, keep silence thus no more;

   Put forth your strength, and ye shall find

   Your noblest work is to adore.

   O soul and body, make ye pure and meet,

   With heartfelt praise your God and Lord to greet.


   Ye little leaves so fresh and green,

   That dance for joy in summer air,

   Ye slender grasses, bright and keen,

   Ye flowers so wondrous sweet and fair;

   Ye only for your Maker's glory live,

   Help me, for all His love, meet praise to give.


   O all ye living things that throng

   With breath and motion earth and sky,

   Be ye companions in my song,

   Help me to raise His praises high;

   For my unaided powers are far too weak

   The glories of His mighty works to speak.


   And first, O Father, praise to Thee

   For all I am and all I have,

   It was Thy merciful decree

   That all those blessings richly gave,

   Which o'er the earth are scattered far and near,

   To help and gladden us who sojourn here.


   And, dearest Jesus, blest be Thou,

   Whose heart with pity overflows,

   Thou rich in help! who deign'dst to bow

   To earth, and taste her keenest woes;

   Thy death has burst my bonds and set me free,

   Has made me Thine; henceforth I cling to Thee.


   Nor less to Thee, O Holy Ghost,

   Be everlasting honours paid,

   For all Thy comfort, Lord, and most

   That I a child of life am made

   By Thy deep love; my good deeds are not mine,

   Thou workest them through me, O Light Divine.


   Yes, Lord, through all my changing days,

   With each new scene afresh I mark

   How wondrously Thou guid'st my ways,

   Where all seems troubled, wilder'd, dark;

   When dangers thicken fast, and hopes depart,

   Thy light beams comfort on my sinking heart.


   Shall I not then be filled with joy,

   Shall I not praise Thee evermore?

   Triumphant songs my lips employ,

   E'en when my cup of woe runs o'er;

   Nay, though the heavens should vanish as a scroll,

   Nothing shall shake or daunt my trusting soul.


   But of Thy goodness will I sing

   As long as I have life and breath,

   Offerings of thanks I'll daily bring

   Until my heart is still in death;

   And when at last my lips grow pale and cold,

   Yet in my sighs Thy praises shall be told.


   Father, do Thou in mercy deign

   To listen to my earthly lays;

   Once shall I learn a nobler strain,

   Where angels ever hymn Thy praise,

   There in the radiant choir I too shall sing

   Loud hallelujahs to my glorious Kings.
     __________________________________________________________________

Twenty-first Sunday after Trinity.

   Be strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might. Put on the whole
   armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the
   devil. For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against
   principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of
   this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

   From the Epistle. [Eph. 6:10-12]
   [Psalm 46]

   8,7,8,7,6,6,6,6,7

   Ein feste Burg

   [118]Luther. 1530.

   Hymn composed on the road to Worms.

   trans. by William Gaskell, 1855


   A sure stronghold our God is He,

   A trusty shield and weapon;

   Our help He'll be and set us free

   From every ill can happen.

   That old malicious foe

   Intends us deadly woe;

   Armed with the strength of hell

   And deepest craft as well,

   On earth is not his fellow.


   Through our own force we nothing can,

   Straight were we lost forever;

   But for us fights the proper Man,

   By God sent to deliver.

   Ask ye who this may be?

   Christ Jesus named is He,

   Of Sabaoth the Lord;

   Sole God to be adored;

   'Tis he must win the battle.


   And were the world with devils filled,

   All eager to devour us,

   Our souls to fear should little yield,

   They cannot overpower us.

   Their dreaded Prince no more

   Can harm us as of yore;

   Look grim as e'er he may,

   Doomed is his ancient sway;

   A word can overthrow him.


   Still shall they leave that Word His might,

   And yet no thanks shall merit;

   Still is He with us in the fight,

   By His good gifts and Spirit.

   E'en should they take our life,

   Goods, honour, children, wife--

   Though all of these be gone,

   Yet nothing have they won,

   God's kingdom ours abideth!

   Electronic edition: for Winkworth's translation, see the [119]Appendix.
     __________________________________________________________________

Twenty-second Sunday after Trinity.

   Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own
   understanding.

   From the Lesson. [Prov. 3:5]

   10,10,10,10

   So führst du doch recht selig Herr

   [120]Gottfried Arnold. 1666-1714.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   How blest to all Thy followers, Lord, the road

   By which Thou lead'st them on, yet oft how strange!

   But Thou in all dost seek our highest good,

   For Truth were true no longer, couldst Thou change.

   Though crooked seem the paths, yet are they straight,

   By which Thou draw'st Thy children up to Thee,

   And passing wonders by the way they see,

   And learn at last to own Thee wise and great.


   No human laws can bind Thy Spirit, Lord,

   That reason or opinion frame for us;

   The knot of doubt is severed by Thy sword,

   Or falls unravelled if Thou willest thus.

   The strongest bonds are weak to Thee, O God,

   All sinks and fails that would Thy course oppose;

   Thy lightest word can quell Thy stoutest foes,

   And desert paths are by Thy footsteps trod.


   What human prudence fondly strives to bind,

   Thy wisdom sunders far as east to west;

   Who long beneath the yoke of man have pined,

   Thy hand exalteth high above the rest.

   The world would scatter, Thou dost union give;

   She breaks, Thou buildest; what she builds is made

   A ruined heap; her light is nought but shade;

   Her dead Thy Spirit calls to rise and live.


   Is there an act our reason would applaud?

   Lo! in Thy book hast Thou the example given;

   But him whom none as wise and pious laud,

   Thou often lead'st in secret up to Heaven,

   As Thou didst leave the Pharisee, to go

   And eat with sinners whom all else forsook.

   Who can search out Thy purposes, or look

   Into the abyss of wisdom whence they flow?


   Our all, O God, is nothing in Thine eyes,

   Our nothing Thou regardest oft with love;

   Glory and pomp of words Thou dost not prize,

   Thy impulse only gives them power to move.

   Thy noblest works awaken not man's praise,

   For they are hidden, and he blindly turns

   Away, nor though he see, their light discerns,

   Too gross his sense, too keen their dazzling rays.


   O Ruler! We would bless Thee and adore,

   At whose command we live or turn to dust;

   When Thou dost give us of Thy wisdom's store,

   We see how true Thy care, and learn to trust.

   Thy wisdom plays with us as with a child,

   Who playing learns his Father loves him well;

   'Tis love that brings Thee down with man to dwell,

   Love guides our faltering footsteps through the wild.


   Now seems to us o'er harsh and strict Thy school,

   Now dost Thou greet us mild and tenderly,

   Now when our wilder passions break Thy rule,

   Thy judgments fright us back again to Thee.

   With downcast eyes we seek Thy face again,

   Thou kissest us, we promise fair amends,

   Once more Thy Spirit rest and pardon sends,

   And curbs our passions with a stronger rein.


   Thou know'st, O Father, all our weakness well,

   Our impotence, our foolishness of mind;

   Almost a passing glance may serve to tell

   How weak are we, how ignorant, how blind,

   And so Thou comest with Thy help and stay,

   A father's rule, a mother's love are Thine;

   The lamb, on whom none else discern Thy sign,

   Thou carriest in Thy bosom day by day.


   The common ways are trodden not of Thee,

   Thy steps are seldom traced by mortal eyes,

   Yet art Thou near us, and unseen, dost see

   All hopes and wishes that within us rise.

   The bright reflection of Thy inner thought

   Is day by day before our eyes outspread;

   Who thinks he quickest hath Thy meaning read,

   Is oft another deeper lesson taught.


   O Eye, whose glance no falsehood can endure,

   Grant me to wisely judge, and well discern

   Nature from grace--Thy Light serene and pure

   From grosser fires that in and round me burn.

   Let no strange fire be kindled on the shrine

   Within my heart, lest I should madly bring

   The hated offering unto Thee, O King.

   Ah, blest the soul whose light is born of Thine!


   When reason contradicts Thy law, or climbs

   So high, she weeneth to know more than Thou,

   Break down her confidence, great God, betimes,

   And teach her lowly at Thy feet to bow.

   Nor let my proud heart dictate, Lord, to Thee,

   But tame the wayward will that seeks its own,

   And wake the love that clings to Thee alone,

   And takes Thy judgments in humility.


   Absorb my will in Thine; support and bear

   Onward in loving arms Thy timid child;

   Thy Spirit's voice dispels all doubt, all fear,

   And quells the passions erst so fierce and wild.

   Thou art mine All, since that Thy Son is mine;

   Oh let Thy Spirit work with power in me,

   With strong desire I thirst, I pant for Thee,

   Oh joy whene'er Thy glories round me shine!


   So shall the creature ever serve me here,

   Nor angels blush to bear me company;

   The perfect spirits to Thy throne most near,

   They are my brethren, waiting there for me;

   And oft my spirit joys to meet a heart,

   That loveth Thee and me and every saint.

   Is aught then left can make me sad and faint?

   Come, Fount of Joy! vain sorrows, all depart!
     __________________________________________________________________

Twenty-third Sunday after Trinity.

   For our conversation is in heaven; from whence also we look for the
   Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ; who shall change our vile body, that it
   may be fashined like unto His glorious body, according to the working
   whereby He is able even to subdue all things unto Himself.

   From the epistle. [Philip. 3:20-21]

   7,7,7,7

   Du o schönes Weltgebäude

   [121]Johann Franck. 1653.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Let who will in thee rejoice,

   O thou fair and wondrous earth!

   Ever anguished sorrow's voice

   Pierces through thy seeming mirth;

   Let thy vain delights be given

   Unto them who love not Heaven,

   My desire is fixed on Thee,

   Jesus, dearest far to me!


   Weary souls with toil outworn,

   Drooping 'neath the glaring light,

   Wish that soon the coming morn

   Might be quenched again in night,

   That their toils might find a close

   In a soft and deep repose;

   I but wish to rest in Thee,

   Jesus, dearest far to me!


   Others dare the treacherous wave,

   Hidden rock and shifting wind--

   Storm and danger let them brave,

   Earthly good or wealth to find;

   Faith shall wing my upward flight

   Far above yon starry height,

   Till I find myself with Thee,

   Jesus, dearest Friend to me!


   Many a time ere now I said,

   Many a time again shall say,

   Would to God that I were dead,

   Would that in my grave I lay!

   Rest were mine, and sweet my lot

   Where the body hindereth not,

   And the soul can ever be,

   Jesus, dearest Lord, with Thee!


   Come, O Death, thou twin of Sleep,

   Lead me hence,--I pray thee come,

   Loose my rudder, through the deep

   Guide my vessel safely home.

   Thy approach who will may fly,

   'Twere a joy to me to die,

   Death but opes the gates to Thee,

   Jesus, dearest Friend to me!


   Would that I today might leave

   This my earthly prison here,

   And my crown of joy receive

   Waiting me in yon bright sphere!

   In that home of joy, where dwell

   Hosts of angels, would I tell

   How the Godhead shines in Thee,

   Jesus, dearest Lord to me!


   But not yet the gates of gold

   I may see nor enter in,

   Nor the heavenly fields behold,

   But must sit and mourning spin

   Life's dark thread on earth below;

   Let my thoughts then hourly go

   Whither I myself would be,

   Jesus, dearest Lord, with Thee!
     __________________________________________________________________

Twenty-fourth Sunday after Trinity

   Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and
   troubled about many things; but one thing is needful, and Mary hath
   chosen that good part which shall not be taken away from her.

   Luke 10:41,42

   8,8,8,8,10,10,10,10

   Eins ist Noth

   [122]Schröder. 1697.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   One thing is needful! Let me deem

   Aright of that whereof He spoke;

   All else, how sweet soe'er it seem,

   Is but in truth a heavy yoke,

   'Neath which the toiling spirit frets and pants,

   Yet never finds the happiness it wants:

   This one can make amends, whate'er I miss,

   Who hath it finds in all his joy through this!


   My soul, wouldst thou this one thing find?

   Seek not amid created things;

   Leave what is earthly far behind,

   O'er Nature heavenward stretch thy wings,

   Where God and man are One, in whom appear

   All truth and fulness, thou hast found it here,--

   The better part, the One thing needful He,

   My One, my All, my Joy, who saveth me.


   As Mary once devoutly sought

   The eternal truth, the better part,

   And sat, enwrapt in holy thought,

   At Jesu's feet with burning heart,

   For nought else caring, yearning for the word

   That should be spoken by her Friend, her Lord,

   Losing her All in Him, His word believing,

   And through the One all things again receiving:


   Even so is all my heart's desire

   Fixed, dearest Lord, on Thee alone;

   Oh make me true and draw me nigher,

   And make Thyself, O Christ, my own.

   Though many turn aside to join the crowd,

   To follow Thee in love my heart is vowed,

   Thy word is life and spirit, whither go?

   What joy is there in Thee we cannot know?


   All perfect wisdom lies in Thee

   As in its primal hidden source;

   Oh let my will submissive be,

   And hold henceforth its even course,

   Controlled by truth and meekness, for high Heaven

   To lowly simple hearts hath wisdom given;

   Who knoweth Christ aright, and in Him lives,

   Hath won the highest prize that wisdom gives.


   Oh that my soul from sleep might wake,

   And ever, Lord, Thine image bear!

   Thee for my portion I will take,

   Thy holiness Thou bidd'st us share,

   Whate'er we need for God-like walk and life

   Is given to us in Thee; oh end this strife,

   And free me from the love of passing things,

   To know alone the life from Thee that springs!


   What can I ask for more? Behold

   Thy mercy is a very flood;

   I know that Thou hast passed of old

   Into the Holiest through Thy blood,

   And there redeemed for ever those who lay

   Beneath the rule of Satan; now are they

   Made free by Thee, who erst were slaves and weak,

   And childlike hearts the name of Father speak.


   Deep joy and peace and holy calm

   Fill my once restless spirit now;

   O'er verdant pastures free from harm,

   She follows Thee, her shepherd Thou;

   Whate'er rejoices or consoles us here,

   Is not so sweet as feeling Thou art near;

   This One is needful, but all else is dross,

   Let me win Christ, all other gain is loss.

   One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I
   may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold
   the beauty of the Lord, and to enquire in His temple.

   Psalm 27:4
     __________________________________________________________________

Twenty-fifth Sunday after Trinity.

   Behold, the days come, saith the Lord, that I will raise unto David a
   righteous Branch, and a King shall reign, and prosper, and shall
   execute judgment and justice in the earth.

   From the Passage for the Epistle. [Jer. 23:5]

   8,8,8,8

   Komm Heidenheiland, Lösegeld

   [123]Johann Franck.

   After [124]St. Ambrose.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Redeemer of the nations, come!

   Ransom of earth, here make Thy home!

   Bright Sun, oh dart Thy flame to earth,

   For so shall God in Christ have birth!


   Thou comest from Thy kingly throne,

   O Son of God, the Virgin's Son!

   Thou Hero of a twofold race,

   Dost walk in might earth's darkest place.


   Thou stoopest once to suffer here,

   And risest o'er the starry sphere;

   Hell's gates at Thy descent were riven,

   Thy ascent is to highest Heaven.


   One with the Father! Prince of might!

   O'er nature's realm assert Thy right,

   Our sickly bodies pine to know

   Thy heavenly strength, Thy living glow.


   How bright Thy lowly manger beams!

   Down earth's dark vale its glory streams,

   The splendour of Thy natal night

   Shines through all Time in deathless light.
     __________________________________________________________________

St. Andrew's Day.

   And Jesus saith unto them, Follow me. . . And they straightway left
   their nets, and followed Him.

   From the Gospel. [Mk 1:17-18]

   7,7,7,7

   Folget mir, ruft uns das Leben

   [125]Rist. 1644.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Follow me, in me ye live,

   What ye ask I freely give,

   Only heed ye lest ye stray,

   Follow me, the Living Way;

   Follow me with all your hearts,

   I will ward off sorrow's darts;

   Learn from Christ your Lord to be

   Rich in meek humility.


   Yea, Lord, meet it is indeed

   We should all thy bidding heed;

   Who in fear of this earth's blame,

   Counts Thy lowly yoke a shame,

   To Thy name, Lord, hath no right,

   Is no Christian, in Thy sight.

   Ah too well I know that we,

   Hear on earth, should follow Thee.


   Where is strength, Lord, to fulfil,

   Glad at heart, Thy works and will,

   Following on where Thou hast trod?

   All too weak am I, O God;

   If awhile Thy paths I keep,

   Soon I pine for rest and sleep;

   E'en to love Thee, Lord, aright,

   Passeth far my feeble might.


   Yet I will not turn from Thee,

   Yet my joy in Christ shall be;

   Help me, make me strong and bold,

   Firm and fast Thy grace to hold;

   This world and her lusts I leave,

   Only to my Lord I cleave;

   All their promises are lies,

   But who follows Thee is wise.


   Thou hast gone before us, Lord,

   Not with anger, strife, or sword,

   Not with kingly pomp and pride,

   But with mercy at Thy side.

   Moved by wondrous love divine

   For our life Thou gavest Thine,

   And Thy precious outpoured blood,

   Won for us the highest good.


   Let us follow in such sort,

   Christ-like every deed and thought,

   That Thy love most true and kind

   All our hearts henceforth may bind;

   None may look behind him now,

   Who to Christ hath pledged his vow;

   Jesus leads, no longer stand,

   Follow me, is His command.


   Draw me up, my God, from hence,

   Raise me high o'er earth and sense,

   That I lose not Thee from sight,

   Nor in life nor death, my Light!

   In my soul's most deep recess

   Let me cherish holiness,

   Not for show or human praise,

   But for Thy sake, all my days.


   Grant me, Lord, my heart's desire,

   So my course to run nor tire,

   That my practised soul may prove

   What Thy meekness, what Thy love.

   Grant me here to trust Thy grace,

   There with joy to see Thy face,

   This in time my portion be,

   That through all eternity!
     __________________________________________________________________

St. Thomas the Apostle.

   And Thomas answered and said unto Him, My Lord and my God. Jesus saith
   unto Him, Thomas, because thou hast seen me thou hast believed; blessed
   are they that have not seen, and yet have believed.

   From the Gospel. [Jn. 20:29]

   10,10,10,10,10,10

   Längst suchtest du, mein Geist, ein

   [126]Albertini. 1821.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Long in the spirit-world my soul had sought

   Some friendly being, close to her akin;

   Long had prepared a dwelling in her thought

   And heart for such an one; for she could win

   Through Him alone her strength, for Him she yearned,

   Toward Him her fervent longing ever burned.


   And rich the world in things invisible,

   In heathen gods, and spirits great and small,

   And bright and dark; yet ever did she dwell

   Alone, for One was wanting 'mid them all;

   One having might and glory, rich in love,

   God, who as man could shame and weakness prove.


   Then came the Word, and took on Him our flesh,

   And dwelt with men, here in the world of sight,

   And made an end of strife, and linked afresh

   Our sinful earth unto the throne of light;

   Into His ancient glory He is gone,

   And yet He dwells with us till time be done.


   Thus, O my soul, hast thou received thy will;

   The glory of the world of ghosts is dim

   Before the One, who is and was, and still

   Shall ever be; all hearts are fixed on Him,

   And spirit worlds, since He is there, become

   Hallowed and safe to thee, thy proper home.


   Thou soarest now through all their heights sublime,

   And not as once dost empty back return,

   But gazing on Thy God, forgettest time

   Beneath His loving glance, whence thou wouldst learn

   How thou shouldst love, and know His Word aright:

   Ah, blest the love and faith that ask not sight!
     __________________________________________________________________

Presentation in the Temple.

   Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, according to Thy
   word; for mine eyes have seen Thy salvation.

   From the Gospel. [Lk. 2:29-30]

   6,6,8,6

   Herr Jesu Licht der Heiden

   [127]Johann Franck. 1653.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Light of the Gentile world!

   Thy people's joy and love!

   Drawn by Thy Spirit we are come

   Thy presence, Lord, to prove.

   Within Thy temple walls

   We wait with earnest mind,

   As Simeon waited long of old

   His Saviour God to find.


   Thou wilt be found of us,

   O Lord, in every place,

   Where Thou hast promised faithfully

   We should behold Thy face.

   Thou yet dost suffer us,

   Who oft are gathered here,

   To bear Thee in the arms of faith

   As once that aged seer.


   Be Thou our bliss, our light

   Shining 'mid pain and loss,

   Our Sun of strength in time of fear,

   The glory round our cross;

   A glow in sinking hearts,

   A sunbeam in distress,

   Physician, nurse, in sickness' hours,

   In death our happiness.


   Oh let us, Lord, prevail

   With Simeon at the last;

   May we take up his dying song

   When life is waning fast!

   "Let me depart in peace,

   Since that mine aged eyes

   Have seen the Saviour here on earth,

   Have seen His day arise."


   Yes, with the eye of faith

   My Jesus I behold;

   No foe can rob me of my Lord,

   Though fierce his threats and bold.

   I dwell within Thy heart,

   Thou dost in mine abide,

   Not sorrow, pain nor death itself,

   Can tear me from Thy side.
     __________________________________________________________________

St. Matthias' Day.

   Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give
   you rest.

   From the Gospel. [Matt. 10:28]

   8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8

   Es ist noch eine Ruh vorhanden

   [128]Kunth. 1733.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Yes, there remaineth yet a rest!

   Arise, sad heart, who now dost pine,

   By heavy care and pain opprest,

   On whom no sun of joy can shine;

   Look to the Lamb! in yon bright fields

   Thou'lt know the joy His presence yields;

   Cast off thy load and thither haste;

   Soon shalt thou fight and bleed no more,

   Soon, soon thy weary course be o'er,

   And deep the rest thou then shalt taste:


   The rest appointed thee of God,

   The rest that nought shall break or move,

   That ere this earth by man was trod

   Was set apart for thee by Love.

   Our Saviour gave His life to win

   This rest for thee; oh enter in!

   Here how His voice sounds far and wide:

   Ye weary souls, no more delay,

   Nor loiter faithless by the way,

   Here in my peace and rest abide!


   Ye heavy-laden, come to Him!

   Ye who are bent with many a load,

   Come from your prisons drear and dim,

   Toil not thus sadly on your road!

   Ye've borne the burden of the day,

   And hear ye not your Saviour say,

   I am your refuge and your rest?

   His children ye, of heavenly birth,

   Howe'er may rage sin, hell, or earth,

   Here are ye safe, here calmly blest.


   Yonder in joy the sheaves we bring,

   Whose seed was sown on earth in tears;

   There in our Father's house we sing

   The song too sweet for mortal ears.

   Sorrow and sighing all are past,

   And pain and death are fled at last,

   There with the Lamb of God we dwell,

   He leads us to the crystal river,

   He wipes away all tears for ever;

   What there is ours no tongue can tell.


   Hunger nor thirst can pain us there,

   The time of recompense is come,

   Nor cold nor scorching heat we bear,

   Safe sheltered in our Saviour's home.

   The Lamb is in the midst; and those

   Who followed Him through shame and woes,

   Are crowned with honour, joy, and peace.

   The dry bones gather life again,

   One Sabbath over all shall reign,

   Wherein all toil and labour cease.


   There is untroubled calm and light,

   No gnawing care shall mar our rest;

   Ye weary, heed this word aright,

   Come, lean upon your Saviour's breast.

   Fain would I linger here no more,

   Fain to yon happier world upsoar,

   And join that bright expectant band.

   Oh raise, my soul, the joyful song

   That rings through yon triumphant throng;

   Thy perfect rest is nigh at hand.
     __________________________________________________________________

The Annunciation.

   Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to Thy word.

   From the Gospel. [Lk. 1:38]

   7,7,7,7,7,7

   Meine Seele senket sich

   [129]Winkler. 1713.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Yea my spirit fain would sink

   In Thy heart and hands, my God,

   Waiting till Thou show the end

   Of the ways she here hath trod;

   Stripped of self, how calm her rest

   On her loving Father's breast!


   And my soul repineth not,

   Well content whate'er befall;

   Murmurs, wishes, of self-will,

   They are slain and vanquished all,

   Restless thoughts, that fret and crave,

   Slumber in her Saviour's grave.


   And my soul is free from care,

   For her thoughts from all things cease

   That can pierce like sharpest thorns

   Wounding sore the inner peace.

   He who made her careth well,

   She but seeks in peace to dwell.


   And my soul despaireth not,

   Loving God amid her woe;

   Grief that wrings and breaks the heart

   Only they who hate Him know:

   They who love Him still possess

   Comfort in their worst distress.


   And my soul complaineth not,

   For she knows not pain or fear,

   Clinging to her God in faith,

   Trusting though He slay her here.

   'Tis when flesh and blood repine,

   Son of joy, Thou canst not shine.


   Thus my soul before her God

   Lieth still, nor speaketh more,

   Conqueror thus o'er pain and wrong,

   That once smote her to the core;

   Like a silent ocean, bright

   With her God's great praise and light.
     __________________________________________________________________

St. Barnabas' Day.

   We preach unto you that ye should turn from these vanities unto the
   living God which made heaven, and earth, and the sea, and all things
   that are therein: who in time past suffered all nations to walk in
   their own ways. Nevertheless He left not Himself without witness, in
   that He did good, and gave us rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons,
   filling our hearts with food and gladness.

   From the Lesson. [Acts 14:15]

   7,7,7,7,7,7,7,7,7,7

   Sollt ich meinem Gott nicht singen

   [130]Paul Gerhardt. 1659.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Shall I not sing praise to Thee,

   Shall I not give thanks, O Lord?

   Since for us in all I see

   How Thou keepest watch and ward;

   How the truest tenderest love

   Ever fills Thy heart, my God,

   Helping, cheering, on their road,

   All who in Thy service move.

   All things else have but their day,

   God's love only lasts for aye.


   As the eagle o'er her nest

   Spreads her sheltering wings abroad,

   So from all that would molest,

   Doth Thine arm defend me, Lord;

   From my youth up e'en till now

   Of the being Thou didst give,

   And the earthly life I live,

   Faithful Guardian still wert Thou.

   All things else have but their day,

   God's love only lasts for aye.


   Nay, He kept not back His Son,

   But hath given Him for our good,

   And our safety He hath won

   By the shedding of His blood.

   O Thou fathomless abyss!

   My weak powers but strive in vain,

   Knowledge of Thy depths to gain,

   Man knows not such love as this.

   All things else have but their day,

   God's love only lasts for aye.


   And His Spirit, blessed Guide,

   In His holy Word doth teach,

   How on earth we may abide,

   So that heaven at last we reach;

   Every longing heart doth fill

   With the pure light of faith,

   That can break the bonds of death,

   And control the powers of ill.

   All things else have but their day,

   God's love only lasts for aye.


   Truly hath He cared indeed

   For my soul's health, and no less

   If my body suffer need,

   Will He help in my distress.

   When my strength and courage fail,

   When my powers can do no more,

   Doth my God such strength outpour,

   That I rise up and prevail.

   All things else have but their day,

   God's love only lasts for aye.


   All the hosts of heaven and earth,

   Hath He placed at my command,

   Nowhere is there lack or dearth,

   But I find in sea and land

   All things ordered for my wants,

   Living things in fields and woods,

   On the heights or in the floods,

   And the earth brings forth her plants.

   All things else have but their day,

   God's love only lasts for aye.


   When I sleep my Guardian wakes,

   And revives my wearied mind;

   Every morning on me breaks

   With some mark of love most kind;

   Had my God not stood my Friend,

   Had His countenance not been

   Here my guide, I had not seen

   Many a trial reach its end.

   All things else have but their day,

   God's love only lasts for aye.


   Often hath my crafty Foe

   Threatened to bring down on me

   Many a sore and heavy woe,

   From which yet my life is free;

   For the angel whom God sends,

   Wards off every threatened hurt,

   Every evil doth avert

   That mine Enemy intends.

   All things else have but their day,

   God's love only lasts for aye.


   As a father ne'er withdraws

   From a child his all of love,

   Though it often break his laws,

   Though it careless, wilful, prove:

   Even so my loving Lord

   Doth my faults with pity see,

   With His rod He chastens me,

   Not avenging with His sword.

   All things else have but their day,

   God's love only lasts for aye.


   When His strokes upon me light,

   Bitterly I feel their smart,

   Yet are they, if seen aright,

   Tokens that my Father's heart

   Yearns to bring me back again

   Through these crosses to His fold,

   From the world that fain would hold

   Soul and body in its chain.

   All things else have but their day,

   God's love only lasts for aye.


   All my life I still have found,

   And I will forget it never,

   Every sorrow hath its bound,

   And no cross endures for ever.

   After all the winter's snows

   Comes sweet summer back again,

   Patient souls ne'er wait in vain,

   Joy is given for all their woes.

   All things else have but their day,

   God's love only lasts for aye.


   Since then neither change nor end

   In Thy love can e'er have place,

   Father! I beseech Thee send

   Unto me Thy loving grace.

   Help Thy feeble child, and give

   Strength to serve Thee day and night,

   Loving Thee with all my might,

   While on earth I yet must live;

   So shall I when Time is o'er,

   Praise and love Thee evermore.
     __________________________________________________________________

St. Michael and all Angels.

   Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister for those
   that shall be heirs of salvation?

   Heb. 1:14

   7,7,7,7,7,7,7,7,7,7

   Ehr und Dank sei Dir gesungen

   [131]Rist. 1655.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Praise and thanks to Thee be sung,

   Mighty God, in sweetest tone!

   Lo! from every land and tongue,

   Nations gather round Thy Throne,

   Praising Thee, that Thou dost send,

   Daily from Thy Heaven above,

   Angel-messengers of love,

   Who Thy threatened Church defend,

   Who can offer worthily,

   Lord of angels, praise to Thee!


   'Tis your office, Spirits bright,

   still to guard us night and day,

   And before your heavenly might,

   Powers of darkness flee away;

   Ever doth your unseen host

   Camp around us, and avert

   All that seeks to do us hurt,

   Curling Satan's malice most.

   Lord, who then can worthily

   For such goodness honour Thee!


   And ye come on ready wing,

   When we drift toward sheer despair,

   Seeing nought where we might cling,

   Suddenly, lo, ye are there!

   And the wearied heart grows strong,

   As an angel strengthened Him,

   Fainting in the garden dim,

   'Neath the world's vast woe and wrong.

   Lord, who then can worthily

   For such mercy honour Thee!


   Right and seemly is it then

   We should glory, that our God

   Hath such honour put on men,

   That He sends o'er earth abroad

   Princes of the realm above,

   Champions, who by day and night,

   Shield us with His holy might;

   Come, behold how great His love!

   Lord, who then can worthily

   For such favour honour Thee!


   Praise and thanks to Thee be sung,

   Mighty God, in sweetest tone.

   Lo! from every land and tongue,

   Nations gather round Thy throne,

   Praising Thee that Thou dost send,

   Hourly from Thy glorious sphere,

   Angels down to help us here,

   And Thy threatened Church defend.

   Let us henceforth worthily,

   Lord of angels, honour Thee.
     __________________________________________________________________

All Saint's Day

   Lo, a great multitude which no man could number, of all nations, and
   kindreds and people, and tongues, stood before the throne and before
   the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands; and cried
   with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the
   throne and unto the Lamb.

   From the Epistle. [Rev. 7:9-10]

   7,7,7,7,7,7

   Wer sind die vor Gottes Throne

   [132]Schenk. d. 1727.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Who are those before God's throne,

   What the crownèd host I see?

   As the sky with stars thick-strown

   Is their shining company:

   Hallelujahs, hark, they sing,

   Solemn praise to God they bring.


   Who are those that in their hands

   Bear aloft the conqueror's palm,

   As one o'er his foeman stands,

   Fallen beneath his mighty arm?

   What the war and what the strife,

   Whence came such victorious life?


   Who are those arrayed in light,

   Clothed in righteousness divine,

   Wearing robes most pure and white,

   That unstained shall ever shine,

   That can nevermore decay;

   Whence came all this bright array?


   They are those who, strong in faith,

   Battled for the mighty God;

   Conquerors o'er the world and death,

   Following not Sin's crowded road;

   Through the Lamb who once was slain,

   Did they such high victory gain.


   They are those who much have borne,

   Trial, sorrow, pain, and care,

   Who have wrestled night and morn

   With the mighty God in prayer;

   Now their strife hath found its close,

   God hath turned away their woes.


   They are branches of that Stem,

   Who hath our Salvation been,

   In the blood He shed for them,

   Have they made their raiment clean;

   Hence they wear such radiant dress,

   Clad in spotless holiness.


   They are those who hourly here

   Served as priests before their Lord,

   Offering up with gladsome cheer

   Soul and body at His word.

   Now within the Holy Place,

   They behold Him face to face.


   As the harts at noonday pant

   For the river fresh and clear,

   Did they ofttimes long and faint

   For the Living Fountain here.

   Now their thirst is quenched, they dwell

   With the Lord they loved so well.


   Thitherwards I stretch my hands;

   O Lord Jesus, day by day,

   In Thy house in these strange lands,

   Compassed round with foes, I pray,

   Let me sink not in the war,

   Drive for me my foes afar.


   Cast my lot in earth and heaven

   With Thy saints made like to Thee,

   Let my bonds be also riven,

   Make Thy child who loves Thee free;

   Near the throne where Thou dost shine,

   May a place at last be mine!


   Ah! that bliss can ne'er be told,

   When with all that army bright,

   Thee, my Sun, I shall behold,

   Shining star-like, with Thy light.

   Amen! Thanks be brought to Thee,

   Praise through all eternity.
     __________________________________________________________________

Morning Hymns

  Morning Hymns. [2]

   My voice shalt Thou hear in the morning, O Lord; in the morning will I
   direct my prayer unto Thee, and will look up.

   Psalm 5:3
     __________________________________________________________________

Morning Hymns.
I.

   8,7,8,7,8,8

   Gott dess Himmels und der Erden

   [133]Heinrich Albert. 1644.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   God who madest earth and heaven,

   Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,

   Who the day and night has given,

   Sun and moon and starry host,

   All things wake at Thy command,

   Held in being by Thy hand:


   God, I thank Thee from my heart,

   That through all the livelong night,

   Thou hast kept me safe apart

   From all danger, pain, affright,

   And the cunning of my foe

   Hath not wrought my overthrow.


   Let the night of sin depart,

   As this earthly night hath fled;

   Jesus, take me to Thy heart,

   In the blood that Thou hast shed

   Is my help and hope alone,

   For the evil I have done.


   Help me as each morn shall break,

   In the Spirit to arise,

   Let my soul from sin awake,

   That when o'er the aged skies,

   Shall the morn of Doom appear,

   I may see it free from fear.


   Ever lead me, ever guide

   All my wanderings by Thy Word;

   As Thou hast been, still abide

   My defence, my refuge, Lord.

   Never safe except with Thee,

   Ever Thou my Guardian be!


   Mighty God, I now commend

   Soul and body unto Thee,

   All the powers that Thou dost lend,

   By Thy hand directed be;

   Thou my boast, my strength divine,

   Keep me with Thee, I am Thine.


   Let Thine angel guard my soul

   From the Evil One's dark power,

   All his thousand wiles control,

   Warning, guiding me each hour,

   Till my final rest be come,

   And Thine angel bear me home.
     __________________________________________________________________

II.

   i

   Die goldene Sonne

   [134]Paul Gerhardt.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   The golden sunbeams with their joyous gleams,

   Are kindling o'er earth, her life and mirth,

   Shedding forth lovely and heart-cheering light;

   Through the dark hours' chill I lay silent and still,

   But risen at length to gladness and strength,

   I gaze on the heavens all glowing and bright.


   Mine eyes now behold Thy works, that of old

   And ever are telling to all men here dwelling,

   How great is Thy glory, how wondrous Thy power;

   They tell of the home where the faithful shall come,

   Who depart to that peace that can change not or cease,

   From earth where all passeth as passes the hour.


   O come let us raise our voices, and praise

   The Maker of all, at His feet let us fall,

   Offering to Him again all He hath given,

   The best that is ours, our hearts and our powers;

   Glad songs that we sing Him, thanks that we bring Him,

   These are the incense most grateful to Heaven.


   Evening and morning thus ever he cares for us,

   Blessing, renewing, warding off ruin,

   These are His works, thus His goodness we prove;

   When we are sleeping, watch He is keeping,

   Whe we arise, He gladdens our eyes

   With the sunshine of mercy, the glow of His love.


   All passeth away, but God liveth aye,

   And changeth in nought; eternal His thought,

   His Word and His Will are steadfast and sure;

   Never His grace nor His mercy decays,

   It heals the sad heart from its deadliest smart,

   Giving it life that shall ever endure.


   God, Thou my crown! forgiving look down,

   And hide from Thy face through Thy pitying grace,

   All my transgressions against Thy command;

   Henceforth oh rule me, guide me and school me,

   As Thou seest fit; my ways I commit

   All to Thy pleasure, Thy merciful hand.


   Crosses and sorrow may end with the morrow,

   Stormiest seas shall sink into peace,

   The wild winds are hushed, and the sunshine returns;

   So fulness of rest, and the calm of the blest,

   Are waiting me there, in that garden most fair,

   That home for which daily my spirit here yearns.
     __________________________________________________________________

III.

   8,4,7,8,4,7

   Seele du musst munter werden

   [135]Von Canitz. 1654-1699.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Come, my soul, awake, 'tis morning,

   Day is dawning

   O'er the earth, arise and pray;

   Come, to Him who made this splendour,

   Thou must render

   All thy feeble powers can pay.


   From the stars now learn thy duty,

   See their beauty

   Paling in the golden air;

   So God's light thy mists should banish,

   Thus should vanish

   What to darkened sense seemed fair.


   See how everything that liveth,

   Gladly striveth

   On the pleasand light to gaze;

   Stirs with joy each thing that groweth,

   As it knoweth

   Darkness smitten by these rays.


   Soul, thy incense also proffer;

   Thou shouldst offer

   Praise to Him, who from thy head

   Kept afar the storms of sorrow,

   And the morrow

   Finds the night in peace hath fled.


   Bid Him bless what thou art doing,

   If pursuing

   Some good aim; but if there lurks

   Ill intent in thine endeavour,

   May He ever

   Thwart and turn thee from Thy works.


   Think that he, the All-discerning,

   Knows each turning

   Of thy path, each sinful stain;

   Nay what shame would fain gloss over,

   Can discover;

   All thou dost to Him is plain.


   Bound unto the flying hours

   Are our powers;

   Earth's vain good floats down their wave,

   That thy ship, my soul, is hasting,

   Never resting,

   To its haven in the grave.


   Pray that when thy life is closing,

   Calm reposing,

   Thou mayst die, and not in pain;

   That, the night of death departed,

   Thou glad-hearted,

   Mayst behold the Sun again.


   From God's glances shrink thou never,

   Meet them ever;

   Who submits him to His grace,

   Finds that earth no sunshine knoweth

   Such as gloweth

   O'er his pathway all his days.


   Wakenest thou again to sorrow,

   Oh! then borrow

   Strength from Him, whose sun-like might

   On the mountain-summit tarries,

   And yet carries

   To the vales their mirth and light.


   Round the gifts He on thee showers,

   Fiery towers

   Will he set, be not afraid,

   Thou shalt dwell 'mid angel legions,

   In the regions

   Satan's self dares not invade.
     __________________________________________________________________

IV.

   7,7,7,7,7,3

   Morgenglanz der Ewigkeit

   [136]Von Rosenroth. 1684.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Dayspring of eternity!

   Dawn on us this morning-tide.

   Light from Light's exhaustless sea,

   Now no more Thy radience hide,

   But dispel with glorious might

   All our night.


   Let the morning dew of love

   On our sleeping conscience rain;

   Gentle comfort from above

   Flow through life's long parchèd plain;

   Water daily us Thy flock

   From the rock.


   Let the glow of love destroy

   Cold obedience faintly given;

   Wake our hearts to strength and joy

   with the flushing eastern heaven,

   Let us truly rise ere yet

   Life hath set.


   Brightest Star of eastern skies,

   Let that final morn appear,

   When our bodies too shall rise

   Free from all that pained them here,

   Strong their joyful course to run

   As the sun.


   To yon world be Thou our light,

   O Thou glorious Sun of grace;

   Lead us through the tearful night,

   To yon fair and blessed place,

   Where to joy that never dies

   We shall rise.
     __________________________________________________________________

V.

   8,8,6,8,8,6,8,8

   Nun tret ich wieder aus der Ruh

   [137]Anton Ulrich, Duke of Brunswick. 1667.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Once more from rest I rise again,

   To greet a day of toil and pain,

   My Heaven-appointed lot;

   Unknowing what new grief may be

   With this new day in store for me,

   But it shall harm me not

   I know full well; my loving God

   Will send me not a hurtful load.


   My burden every day is new,

   But every day my God is true,

   And all my cares hath borne;

   Ere eventide can no man know

   What Day shall bring of joy or woe,

   And though it seem each morn

   To some new path of suffering call,

   With God I can surmount it all.


   Since this I know, oh wherefore sink,

   My faithless heart? And why thus shrink

   To take thy load again?

   Bear what thou canst, God bears thy lot,

   The Lord of All, He stumbleth not;

   Pure blessing shalt thou gain,

   If thou with Him right onward go,

   Nor fear'st to tread the path of woe.


   My heart grows strong, all terrors fly

   Whene'er I feel Thy love Most High,

   Doth compass me around;

   But would I have Thee for my shield,

   No more to sin my soul must yield,

   But in Thy ways be found;

   Thou, God, wilt never walk my way

   If from Thy paths my feet should stray.


   But let me feel Thou guidest me,

   And humbly I will follow Thee,

   Lord, make me true and pure;

   Then strong and dauntless in Thy might

   Against a world of sin I'll fight,

   And know my triumph sure;

   Then bravely I can meet each day,

   And fear it not, come what come may.


   My God and Lord, I cast on Thee

   The load that weighs too sore on me,

   The yoke 'neath which I bow;

   I lay my rank, my high command,

   In my Almighty Father's hand,

   Well knowing, Lord, that Thou

   Wilt ne'er withdraw it, for Thy truth

   Hath let me onward from my youth.


   To Thee my kindred I commend,

   For they are safe if Thou defend,

   Oh guard them round about;

   My sinful soul would shelter take

   In Jesu's bosom, for whose sake

   Thou wilt not cast her out;

   When soul and body part at last,

   Then all myself on Thee I cast.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [2] See also from Christian Singers of Germany, "A Morning Prayer";
   "Make me Thine own and keep me Thine"; "O Light, who out of Light wast
   born"; "Morning Star in darksome night"; from Lyra Germanica, Second
   Series, Morning Prayer.
     __________________________________________________________________

Evening Hymns

  Evening Hymns. [3]

   Evening and morning and at noon will I pray and cry aloud! and He shall
   hear my voice.

   Psalm 141:2
     __________________________________________________________________

Evening Hymns.
I.

   8,8,8,8

   Hinunter ist der Sonnenschein

   [138]N. Hermann. 1560.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   The happy sunshine all is gone,

   The gloomy night comes swiftly on;

   But shine Thou still, O Christ our Light,

   Nor let us lose ourselves in night.


   We thank Thee, Father, that this day

   Thy angels watched around our way,

   And free from harm and vexing fear,

   Have led us on in safety here.


   Lord, have we angered Thee today,

   Remember not our sins, we pray,

   But let Thy mercy o'er them sweep,

   And give us calm and restful sleep.


   Thy angels guard our sleeping hours,

   And keep afar all evil Powers;

   And Thou all pain and mischief ward

   From soul and body, faithful Lord!
     __________________________________________________________________

II.

   7,7,8,7,7,8

   Nun ruhen alle Wälder

   [139]Paul Gerhardt. 1653.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Now all the woods are sleeping,

   And night and stillness creeping

   O'er field and city, man and beast;

   But thou, my heart, awake thee,

   To prayer awhile betake thee,

   And praise thy Maker ere thou rest.


   O Sun, where art thou vanished?

   The Night thy reign hath banished,

   Thy ancient foe, the Night.

   Farewell, a brighter glory

   My Jesus sheddeth o'er me,

   All clear within me shines His light.


   The last faint beam is going,

   The golden stars are glowing

   In yonder dark-blue deep;

   And such the glory given

   When called of God to heaven,

   On earth no more we pine and weep.


   The body hastes to slumber,

   These garments now but cumber;

   And as I lay them by

   I ponder how the spirit

   Puts off the flesh t'inherit

   A shining robe with Christ on high.


   Now thought and labour ceases,

   For Night the tired releases

   And bids sweet rest begin:

   My heart, there comes a morrow

   Shall set thee free from sorrow

   And all the dreary toil of sin.


   Ye aching limbs! now rest you,

   For toil hath sore oppressed you,

   Lie down my weary head;

   A sleep shall once o'ertake you

   From which earth ne'er shall wake you,

   Within a narrower, colder bed.


   My heavy eyes are closing,

   When I lie deep reposing--

   O soul and body, where are ye?

   To helpless sleep I yield them,

   Oh let Thy mercy shield them,

   Thou sleepless Eye, their guardian be!


   My Jesus, stay Thou by me,

   And let no foe come nigh me,

   Safe sheltered by Thy wing;

   But would the foe alarm me,

   O let him never harm me,

   But still Thine angels round me sing!


   My loved ones, rest securely,

   From every peril surely

   Our God will guard your heads;

   And happy slumbers send you,

   And bid His hosts attend you,

   And golden-armed watch o'er your beds.
     __________________________________________________________________

III.

   4,4,6,7,4

   Der Tag ist hin mein Geist und

   [140]Freylinghausen. 1704.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   The day expires;

   My soul desires

   And pants to see that day,

   When the vexing cares of earth

   Shall be done away.


   The night is here;

   Oh! be Thou near,

   Christ, make it light within;

   Drive away from out my heart

   All the night of sin.


   The sunbeams pale,

   And flee and fail;

   O uncreated Sun!

   Let Thy light now shine on us,

   Then our joy were won.


   All things that move

   Below, above,

   Now with sleep are blest,

   Work Thou still in me, while I

   Calmly in Thee rest.


   When shall the sway

   Of night and day

   Cease to rule man thus?

   When that brightest day of days

   Once shall dawn on us.


   Ah! never then

   Her light again

   Jerusalem shall miss,

   For the Lamb shall be her Light,

   Filling her with bliss.


   Oh were I there!

   Where all the air

   With lovely sounds is ringing;

   Where the saints Thee, Holy Lord,

   Evermore are singing!


   Lord Jesus, Thou

   My rest art now,

   Oh help me that I come,

   Radient with Thy light to shine

   In Thy glorious home!
     __________________________________________________________________

IV.

   6,6,8,6,6,8

   Der Mond ist aufgefangen

   [141]Claudius. 1782.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   The moon hath risen on high,

   And in the clear dark sky

   The golden stars all brightly glow;

   And black and hushed the woods,

   While o'er the fields and floods

   The white mists hover to and fro.


   How still the earth! how calm!

   What dear and home-like charm

   From gentle twilight doth she borrow!

   Like to some quiet room,

   Where wrapt in still soft gloom,

   We sleep away the daylight's sorrow.


   Look up; the moon tonight

   Shows us but half her light,

   And yet we know her round and fair.

   At other things how oft

   We in our blindness scoffed,

   Because we saw not what was there.


   We haughty sons of men

   Have but a narrow ken,

   We are but sinners poor and weak,

   Yet airy dreams we build,

   And deem us wise and skilled,

   And come not nearer what we seek.


   Thy mercy let us see,

   Nor find in vanity

   Our joy; nor trust in what departs;

   But true and simple grow,

   And live to Thee below

   With sunny pure and childlike hearts.


   Let Death all gently come

   At last to take us home,

   And let us meet him fearlessly;

   And when these bonds are riven,

   O take us to Thy heaven,

   Our Lord and God, to dwell with Thee.


   Now in His name most blest

   My brethren sink to rest;

   The wind is cold, chill falls the dew.

   Spare us, O God, and keep

   Us safe in quiet sleep,

   And all the sick and suffering too.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [3] See also from Christian Singers of Germany, "Now God be with us,
   for the night is closing"; "Lord Jesu Christ, with us abide"; "At
   Evening;" from Lyra Germanica, Second Series, Evening Prayer; "True
   mirror of the Godhead! Perfect Light!"
     __________________________________________________________________

for the Sick & Dying [4]

   I was sick and ye visited me.

   Matthew 25:36

   The Lord will strengthen him upon the bed of languishing; Thou wilt
   make all this bed in his sickness.

   Psalm 41:3
     __________________________________________________________________

Hymns for the Sick and Dying.
I.

   i

   Mitten wir im Leben sind

   [142]Notker. about 900.

   [143]Luther. 1524.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   In the midst of life, behold

   Death has girt us round.

   Whom for help then shall we pray,

   Where shall grace be found?

   In Thee, O Lord, alone!

   We rue the evil we have done,

   That Thy wrath on us hath drawn.

   Holy Lord and God!

   Strong and Holy God!

   Merciful and Holy Saviour!

   Eternal God!

   Leave us not to sink beneath

   These dark pains of bitter death;

   Kyrie eleison!


   In the midst of death the jaws

   Of hell against us gape.

   Who from peril dire as this

   Openeth us escape?

   'Tis Thou, O Lord, alone!

   Our bitter suffering and our sin

   Pity from Thy mercy win,

   Holy Lord and God!

   Strong and Holy God!

   Merciful and Holy Saviour!

   Eternal God!

   Let not dread our souls o'erwhelm

   Of the dark and burning realm,

   Kyrie Eleison!


   In the midst of hell would Sin

   Drive us to despair;

   Whither shall we flee away?

   Where is refuge, where?

   With Thee, Lord Christ, alone!

   For Thou hast shed Thy precious blood,

   All our sins Thou makest good,

   Holy Lord and God!

   Strong and Holy God!

   Merciful and Holy Saviour!

   Eternal God!

   Leave us not to fall in death

   From the hope of Thy true Faith,

   Kyrie Eleison!
     __________________________________________________________________

II.

   7,7,7,7

   Gott den ich als Liebe kenne

   [144]Richter. 1713.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   God whom I as love have known,

   Thou hast sickness laid on me,

   And these pains are sent of Thee,

   Under which I burn and moan;

   Let them burn away the sin,

   That too oft hath checked the love

   Wherewith Thou my heart wouldst move,

   When Thy Spirit works within!


   In my weakness be Thou strong,

   Be Thou sweet when I am sad,

   Let me still in Thee be glad,

   Though my pains be keen and long.

   All that plagues my body now,

   All that wasteth me away,

   Pressing on me night and day,

   Love ordains, for Love art Thou!


   Suffering is the work now sent,

   Nothing I can do but lie

   Suffering as the hours go by;

   All my powers to this are bent.

   Suffering is my gain; I bow

   To my heavenly Father's will,

   And receive it hushed and still;

   Suffering is my worship now.


   God! I take it from Thy hand

   As a sign of love, I know

   Thou wouldst perfect me through woe,

   Till I pure before Thee stand.

   All refreshment, all the food

   Given me for the body's need,

   Comes from Thee, who lov'st indeed,

   Comes from Thee, for Thou art good.


   Let my soul beneath her load

   Faint not, through the o'erwearied flesh;

   Let her hourly drink afresh

   Love and peace from Thee, my God.

   Let the body's pain and smart

   Hinder not her flight to Thee,

   Nor the calm Thou givest me;

   Keep Thou up the sinking heart.


   Grant me never to complain,

   Make me to Thy will resigned,

   With a quiet, humble mind,

   Cheerful on my bed of pain.

   In the flesh who suffers thus,

   Shall be purified from sin,

   And the soul renewed within;

   Therefore pain is laid on us.


   I commend to Thee my life,

   And my body to the cross;

   Never let me think it loss

   That I thus am freed from strife--

   Wholly Thine; my faith is sure

   Whether life or death be mine,

   I am safe if I am Thine;

   For 'tis Love that makes me pure.
     __________________________________________________________________

III.

   8,8,8,8,8,8

   Kommt an der Tod, da ich muss ringen

   [145]Anon.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   When the last agony draws nigh,

   My spirit sinks in bitter fear:

   Courage! I conquer though I die,

   For Christ with Death once wrestled here.

   Thy strife, O Christ, with Death's dark power

   Upholds me in this fearful hour.


   In faith I hide myself in Thee,

   I shall not perish in the strife;

   I share Thy war, Thy victory,

   And Death is swallowed up in Life.

   Thy strife, O Christ, with Death of yore

   Hath conquered, and I fear no more.
     __________________________________________________________________

IV.

   8,8,8,8,8,8

   Herr Jesus Christ, wahr Mensch und Gott

   [146]Paul Eber. 1557.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Lord Jesus Christ, true Man and God,

   Who borest anguish, scorn, the rod,

   And diedst at last upon the tree,

   To bring Thy Father's grace to me;

   I pray Thee through that bitter woe,

   With me, a sinner, mercy know.


   When comes the hour of failing breath,

   And I must wrestle, Lord, with death,

   When from my sight all fades away,

   And when my tongue no more can say,

   And when mine ears no more can hear,

   And when my heart is racked with fear;


   When all my mind is darkened o'er,

   And human help can do no more,

   Then come, Lord Jesus, come with speed,

   And help me in my hour of need,

   Lead me from this dark vale beneath,

   And shorten then the pangs of death.


   All evil spirits drive away,

   But let Thy Spirit with me stay

   Until my soul the body leave;

   Then in Thy hands my soul receive,

   And let the earth my body keep,

   Till the Last day shall break its sleep.


   Joyful my resurrection be,

   Thou in the Judgment plead for me,

   And hide my sins, Lord, from Thy face,

   And give me Life of Thy dear grace!

   I trust Thee utterly, my Lord,

   For Thou hast promised in Thy Word:


   "In truth I tell you, who receives

   My word, and keeps it, and believes,

   Shall never fall God's wrath beneath,

   Shall never taste eternal death;

   Though here on earth, in time, he die,

   He is not therefore lost; for I


   Will come, and with a mighty hand

   Will break away Death's strongest band,

   And lift him hence that he shall be

   For ever in my realm with Me,

   For ever living there in bliss."

   Ah let us not that glory miss!


   Dear Lord, forgive us all our guilt,

   Help us to wait until Thou wilt

   That we depart; and let our faith

   Be brave and conquer e'en in death,

   Firm resting on Thy sacred Word,

   Until we sleep in Thee, our Lord.
     __________________________________________________________________

V.

   7,7,7,7,7,7

   Geht nun hin und grabt mein Grab

   [147]Ernst Moritz Arndt.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Go and dig my grave today!

   Weary of my wanderings all,

   Now from earth I pass away,

   For the heavenly peace doth call;

   Angel voices from above

   Call me to their rest and love.


   Go and dig my grave today!

   Homeward doth my journey tend,

   And I lay my staff away

   Here where all things earthly end,

   And I lay my weary head

   In the only painless bed.


   What is there I yet should do,

   Lingering in this darksome vale?

   Proud and mighty, fair to view,

   Are our schemes, and yet they fail,

   Like the sand before the wind,

   That no power of man can bind.


   Farewell, earth, then; I am glad

   That in peace I now depart,

   For thy very joys are sad,

   And thy hopes deceive the heart;

   Fleeting is thy beauty's gleam,

   False and changing as a dream.


   And to you a last good night,

   Sun and moon, and stars so dear;

   Farewell all your golden light;

   I am travelling far from here,

   To the splendours of that day

   Where ye all must fade away.


   Farewell, O ye much-loved friends!

   Grief hath smote you as a sword,

   But the Comforter descends

   Unto them that love the Lord.

   Weep not o'er a passing show,

   To th' eternal world I go.


   Weep not that I take my leave

   Of the world; that I exchange

   Errors that too closely cleave,

   Shadows, empty ghosts that range

   Through this world of nought and night,

   For a land of truth and light.


   Weep not, dearest to my heart,

   For I find my Saviour near,

   And I know that I have part

   In the pains He suffered here,

   When He shed His sacred blood

   For the whole world's highest good.


   Weep not, my Redeemer lives;

   Heavenward springing from the dust,

   Clear-eyed Hope her comfort gives;

   Faith, Heaven's champion, bids us trust;

   Love eternal whispers nigh,

   "Child of God, fear not to die!"
     __________________________________________________________________

VI.

   8,6,8,6

   So hab ich obgesieget

   [148]Sacer. 1665.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Then I have conquered; then at last

   My course is run, good night!

   I am well pleased that it is past;

   A thousand times, good night!

   But ye, dear friends, whom I must leave,

   Look not thus anxiously;

   O wherefore thus lament and grieve?

   It standeth well with me.


   Farewell, O anguish, pain, and fear,

   Farewell, farewell for ever!

   It glads my heart to leave you here,

   Redeemed from you for ever!

   Henceforth a life of joy I share,

   In my Creator's hand;

   None of the griefs can touch me there,

   That haunt this lower land.


   Who yet o'er earth in time must roam,

   Not yet from error free,

   Scarce lisp the language of our home,

   The glad eternity.

   Far better is a happy death,

   Than worldly life, I trow;

   The weakness once I sank beneath,

   I nevermore shall know.


   Lay on my coffin many a wreath,

   For conquerors wreathed are seen;

   And lo! my soul attains through death

   The crown of evergreen,

   That blooms in fadeless groves of heaven;

   And this fair victor's crown,

   That mighty Son of God hath given,

   Who for my sake came down.


   'Twas but a while that I was sent

   To dwell among you here;

   Now God resumes what He hath lent,

   Oh grieve not o'er my bier;

   But say, 'twas given at His command

   Who takes it, He is just;

   Our life and death are in His hand,

   His servants can but trust.


   That ye should see my grave, alas!

   Shows we are frail indeed;

   That it so soon should come to pass,

   Our Father hath decreed,

   And He your bitter grief shall still;

   Think not too young am I,

   For he who dies as God doth will,

   Is old enough to die.


   Farewell, thou dear, dear soul, farewell!

   To those sweet pleasures go,

   That we who mourning here must dwell,

   Not yet, alas! can know.

   Ah when shall that great day be come,

   When these things fade away,

   And Thou shalt bid us welcome home;

   Would God it were today!
     __________________________________________________________________

VII.

   8,6,8,6

   Mein Gott in deine Hände

   [149]Hiller. 1765.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   My God, to Thee I now commend

   My soul; for Thou, O Lord,

   Dost live and love me without end,

   And wilt perform Thy word.


   To whom else should I make my plea,

   That heavenly life be mine?

   All souls, my God, belong to Thee,

   My soul is also Thine.


   Thou gav'st my spirit at my birth,

   Take back what Thou hast given;

   And with the Lord I served on earth,

   Grant me to live in heaven.


   Faith spreads her wings, she sees revealed

   The shining walls above;

   My spirit knows that she is sealed,

   Redeemed from death by love.


   Thou my Deliverer wast of yore,

   From sin Thou mad'st me free,

   Now, faithful God, dost Thou once more

   In death deliver me.


   Thou liv'st and lovest without end,

   And dost perform Thy word;

   My passing soul I now commend

   To Thee, my God and Lord!
     __________________________________________________________________

   [4] See also from Christian Singers of Germany, "Sonnet"; "He Maketh
   all our Bed in our Sickness".
     __________________________________________________________________

for the Burial of the Dead [5]

   Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord.

   Rev. 14:13

   For he that is dead is freed from sin; now if we be dead with Christ,
   we believe that we shall also live with Him.

   Rev. 14:13 [Rom. 6:7-8]
     __________________________________________________________________

For the Burial of the Dead.
I.

   8,8,8,8

   Hört auf mit Trauern und mit Klag

   After [150]Prudentius.

   [151]trans. by N. Hermann. 1560.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Now hush your cries, and shed no tear,

   On such death none should look with fear;

   He died a faithful Christian man,

   And with his death true life began.


   Coffin and grave we deck with care,

   His body reverently we bear,

   It is not dead but rests in God,

   And softly sleeps beneath the sod.


   It seems as all were over now,--

   The heavy limbs, the soulless brow,--

   Yet through these rigid limbs once more

   A nobler life, ere long, shall pour.


   These dead dry bones again shall feel

   New warmth and vigour through them steal;

   Reknit and living they shall soar

   On high where Christ lives evermore.


   This body, lying stiff and stark,

   Shall rise unharmed from out the dark,

   And swiftly mount up through the skies,

   Even as the spirit heavenwards flies.


   The buried grain of wheat must die,

   Withered and worthless long must lie,

   Yet springs to light all sweet and fair,

   And proper fruits shall richly bear:


   Even so this body made of dust,

   To earth we once again entrust,

   And painless it shall slumber here,

   Until the Last Great Day appear.


   God breathed into this house of clay

   The spirit that hath passed away,

   Christ gave the true courageous mind,

   The noble heart, ye no more find.


   Now earth has hid it from our eyes,

   Till God shall bid it wake and rise,

   Who ne'er the creature will forget,

   On whom His image He hath set.


   Ah, would that promised Day were here,

   When Christ shall once again appear;

   When He shall call, nor one be lost,

   To endless life earth's buried host!
     __________________________________________________________________

II.

   8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8

   Die Seele ruht in Jesu Armen

   [152]Allendorf. 1725.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Now rests her soul in Jesu's arms,

   Her body in the grave sleeps well,

   His heart her death-chilled heart re-warms,

   And rest more deep than tongue can tell,

   Her few brief hours of conflict passed,--

   She finds with Christ, her Friend, at last;

   She bathes in tranquil seas of peace,

   God wipes away her tears, she feels

   New life that all her languor heals,

   The glory of the Lamb she sees.


   She hath escaped all danger now,

   Her pain and sighing all are fled;

   The crown of joy is on her brow,

   Eternal glories o'er her shed,

   In golden robes, a queen, a bride,

   She standeth at her Sovereign's side,

   She sees His face unveiled and bright;

   With joy and love He greets her soul,

   She feels herself made inly whole,

   A lesser light amid His light.


   The child hath now its Father seen,

   And feels what kindling love may be,

   And knoweth what those words may mean,

   "Himself, the Father, loveth thee."

   A shoreless ocean, an abyss

   Unfathomed, filled with good and bliss,

   Now breaks on her enraptured sight;

   She sees God's face, she learneth there

   What this shall be, to be His heir,

   Joint-heir with Christ, her Lord, in light.


   The body rests, its labours over,

   And sleeps till Christ shall bid it wake;

   The dust that earth and darkness cover,

   Then as a sun its tomb shall break.

   Ah, with what joy it rises then

   To meet the perfect soul again!

   Redeemed from death, no more to sever,

   At that great marriage feast shall they

   With all the saints their homage pay,

   And worship there the Lamb for ever.


   We who yet wander through the waste,

   In faith long after Thee on high;

   While here the bread of tears we taste,

   We think upon that home of joy,

   Where we (who knows how soon?) shall meet

   With all the saints at Jesu's feet,

   And dwell with Him for ever there.

   We shall see God; how deep the bliss

   We know not yet that lies in this;

   Lord Jesus, come, our hearts prepare!
     __________________________________________________________________

III.

   9,9,4,10

   O wie selig seid ihr doch irh Frommen

   [153]Simon Dach. 1650.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Oh how blessed, faithful souls, are ye,

   Who have passed through death; your God ye see,

   Escaped at last

   From all the sorrows that yet hold us fast!


   Here as in a prison we are bound,

   Care and fear, and terrors hem us round,

   And all we know

   It is but toil and grief of heart below.


   While that ye are resting in your home,

   Safe from pain, all misery o'ercome,

   No grief or cross

   Can mix with yonder joys to work you loss.


   Christ doth wipe away your every tear,

   Ye possess what we but long for here,

   To you is sung

   The song that ne'er through mortal ears hath rung.


   Who is there that would not gladly die,

   Changing earth for such a home on high,

   Or who would stay

   To toil amid these sorrows night and day!


   Come, O Christ, release us from our post,

   Lead us quickly hence to yonder host,

   Whose battle won,

   Now drink in joy and bliss from Thee our Sun.
     __________________________________________________________________

   [5] See also from Christian Singers of Germany, "I fall asleep in
   Jesu's arms", "Rise again! yes, rise again wilt thou"; from Lyra
   Germanica, Second Series, At the Burial of the Dead, and "Who puts his
   trust in God most just".
     __________________________________________________________________

                         Appendix I: Alternate Versions
     __________________________________________________________________

   [Psalm 46]

   8,7,8,7,6,6,6,6,7

   Ein feste Burg

   [154]Luther. 1530.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   God is our stronghold firm and sure,

   Our trusty shield and weapon,

   He shall deliver us, whate'er

   Of ill to us may happen.

   Our ancient Enemy

   In earnest now is he,

   Much craft and great might

   Arm him for the fight,

   On earth is not his fellow.


   Our might is nought but weakness, soon

   Should we the battle lose,

   But for us fights the rightful Man,

   Whom God Himself doth choose.

   Asketh thou His name?

   'Tis Jesus Christ, the same

   Whom Lord of Hosts we call,

   God only over all;

   None from the field can drive Him.


   What though the world were full of fiends,

   That would us sheer devour!

   We know we yet shall win the day,

   We fear not all their power.

   The Prince of this world still,

   May struggle as he will,

   He nothing can prevail,

   A word shall make him quale,

   For he is judged of heaven.


   The word of God they cannot touch,

   Yet have no thanks therefore,

   God by His Spirit and His gifts,

   Is with us in the war.

   Then let them take our life,

   Goods, honour, children, wife,

   Though nought of these we save,

   Small profit shall they have,

   The kingdom ours abideth.

   (This translation only appears in the first edition (1855) of Lyra
   Germanica, First Series: in all subsequent editions and, slightly
   altered, in [155]The Chorale Book for England (No. 124) and again in
   [156]Christian Singers of Germany (p. 110) the translation by W.
   Gaskell (1805 - 1884) was used - [157]A sure stronghold our God is He.
   See Catherine Winkworth's [158]footnote to the preface of second
   edition of Lyra Germanica, First Series in 1855).
     __________________________________________________________________

                        Appendix II: Manuscript Addenda

   [Note to the electronic edition: this information, except for the book
   dedication and the text of the memorial tablet from Bristol Cathedral,
   was transcribed into this copy of the book by a grand-niece.]
     __________________________________________________________________

  Dedication

   To Jane.
   In remembrance of the 9th March 1861
   from M. R. and A. M. R.

   "M. R. & A. M. R" were Mary & Anna Maria Rawson, old school-friends of
   my great-aunt "Jane" - Jane Adair Atkins.
   Mary Rawson married Dr. Burqhardt, an analytical chemist, & they went
   to live at Delamere, Meyes Lane, Alderley Edge, moving later to Fern
   Cottage, Macclesfield Road, Alderley Edge.
     __________________________________________________________________

  Biography

   Catherine Winkworth was born in No. 20, Ely Place, Holborn, on the 13th
   September 1827. Her parents moved to Manchester while she was still
   very young as her father had a silk mill (at Macclesfield?); & Emily &
   Susanna were left with their grandmother Winkworth & her daughter,
   Eliza, who had lived with them in Ely Place, & they went to live at
   Islington where "Aunt Eliza" undertook their education. When they
   followed their parents to Manchester they had lessons from the Rev.
   William Gaskell, minister of Cross Street Chapel, Manchester, & husband
   of the well-known novelist. Later Catherine became very friendly with
   both Mr. & Mrs. Gaskell, & also knew the Martineaus, Miss Bronte, The
   Goldschmidts (Madame Goldschmidt was Jenny Lind before her marriage),
   Adelaide Procter, the Froudes, Mrs. Carlyle, etc., & it was through
   Mrs. Gaskell that she came to know Chevalier Bunson who started
   Catherine & Susanna in their literary work, & to whom Catherine
   dedicated her "Lyra Germanica."

   "We were spending the spring & summer in a small cottage (Fern Cottage)
   which our father had taken at Alderley Edge, about fifteen miles from
   Manchester, a hill on the edge of Lord Stanley's Park, with a beautiful
   view over the Cheshire plain below. This led to his building a house
   there to which the family moved in June 1850 (Thornfield), but I
   remained behind in Manchester with my brother Stephen (removing to a
   little house in Nelson Street) until his marriage in 1861" (Susanna
   Winkworth) The home was then broken up, & Susanna returned to Alderley
   Edge.

   "Tonight Mr. Heugh & Papa & some more gentlemen are to meat at Mr.
   Consterdine's to try & arrange plans for opening a Reading Room that
   shall be a counter-attraction to the public house," (a letter dated
   1855, from Catherine to her sister Emily). Mr. Consterdine was the
   first vicar of the new church of St. Philip's Chorley, which was built
   in 1851-2. As soon as the vicar was settled at the new church Catherine
   untertook active work among the poor in the newly-established Sunday
   School & District Visiting Society. She was regarded with extreme
   affection by the poor, & long after she left the neighbourhood, she
   used to receive occasional letters from them. For nearly two years from
   January, 1848, Catherine had a long period of ill-health, & on this
   account went for several visits for her health. Most of the winter of
   1859 was spent by her & her sister Susanna, at Malvern owing to
   illness; & catching a fresh chill Catherine had to stay on at Malvern
   till October, when they moved to Westen for a change of air. They
   arrived home at Alderley in time for Christmas. Again in 1861 Susanna
   had a serious illness which left her more or less of an invalid for
   some years. In spite of this ill-health, the sisters continued with
   their translations of German works & made several visits abroad. In
   February 1861, their father was tken ill; this was the beginning of his
   complete breakdown in health, which obliged him to give up his
   business, & ultimately led to the family leaving Thornfield, Alderley
   Edge, & settling at Clifton in October 1862. After the birth of Emily's
   youngest child, she was an invalid for many years & was the centre of
   all the family thoughts and plans. During the later part of her life
   Catherine's principal work was in connection with education, & in 1870
   she was made secretary of the Committee to Promote the Higher Education
   of Women.

   In 1878 Catherine went to Mornix near Geneva where she joined Annie
   Shaen to help her in the care of their nephew Frank Shaen, then an
   invalid. She arrived on June 17th, & on the 21st they proceeded to
   Monnetiex. On the morning of the 1st of July she was suddenly attacked
   by a pain at the heart, & in half-an-hour all was over. Susanna
   immediately started for Monnetiex, & in a few days Catherine was laid
   to rest in the corner of the churchyard set aside for Protestants. In
   her memory her friends raised a sum sufficient to endow two "Catherine
   Winkworth" scholarships for women at the Bristol University College, &
   also to erect a [159]memorial tablet to her in Bristol Cathedral.
     __________________________________________________________________

   In Memory of
   CATHERINE WINKWORTH
   Who, in her Lyra Germanica,
   Rendering into English verse
   The treasures of German sacred poetry,
   Opened a new source of light, consolation, and strength
   In many thousand homes.

   Her works reveal a clear and harmonious intellect
   A gift of true poetic insight and expression,
   And the firm Christian faith
   Which was the mainspring of a life
   Rich in tender and affectionate ministration
   And fruitful in various fields of active service.

   Her loss is mourned by all who shared her labour,
   And by the many friends whom death has bereft
   Of her rare sympathy, her wise counsel,
   Her bright companionship, and her unfailing help
   In every time of need.

   To commemorate her work, and to perpetuate
   Her efforts for the better education of women,
   A scholarship, bearing her name,
   Has been founded in University College, Bristol
   By friends who now dedicate this table
   To her memory

   Born in London, September 13th, 1827
   Died in Monnetier, Savoy, July lst, 1878
     __________________________________________________________________


   "The child has now its Father seen,

   And feels what kindling love may be,

   And knoweth what those words may mean,

   'Himself, the Father, loveth thee'."
     __________________________________________________________________

  Genealogy

   From "Memorials of Two Sisters: Susanna & Catherine Winkworth" Edited
   by their niece Margaret J. Shaen. 1908?

    DICKENSON

   Stephen Dickenson
          "Eldest son of a wealthy yeoman, who owned the farm of Stone
          Court, & some outlying property at Pembury, Kent." Disowned by
          his father on account of his religious views. Started a village
          school, & finally settled at Pembury as a small landowner.

          + 2 daughters?
          + daughter married Henry Winkworth, died 21/4/1841.

   Daniel Dickenson
          "youngest brother." Living in 1847.

    WINKWORTH

   The Rev. William Winkworth
          Chaplain of St. Saviour's Southwark, & chaplain of Horsemonger
          Lane Goal. married. _____; she died 2/1841.

          + Thomas Winkworth. A navy surgeon, & afterwards a silk
            manufacturer in partnership with his brother Henry.
          + son.
          + son.
          + Henry Winkworth. Clerk in a Government Office, & afterwards a
            silk manufacturer in partnership with his brother Thomas. Died
            15/5/1869. Buried at St. Johns's Redland. Married Dickenson
            daughter; married Eliza Leyburn, 1845. Died aged 94.
               o Susanna Winkworth. born 13/8/1820. died 25/11/1884.
               o Emily Winkworth. born 11/2/1822, died 2/10/1887. married
                 2/9/1851 William Shaen of Cux[Cax?], Essex. They lived in
                 London. He died 1887.
                    # Children.
                    # Margaret J. Shaen
                    # "youngest child" born 30/10/1862
               o Selina Winkworth. born 4/12/1825, died 2/1885. married
                 John Collie.
                    # Children.
               o Catherine Winkworth. born 13/9/1827, died 1/7/1878.
               o William Winkworth. born at Manchester, died 8/1839.
               o Stephen Winkworth. born 21/4/1831, died 7/1886. married
                 1861, ____ Thomasson.
               o Alice Winkworth?
          + Eliza Winkworth.

   Brother, went into the Navy. Died young, unmarried.
     __________________________________________________________________

  Bibliography

   The life & Letters of Barthold & George Niebuhr, founded upon &
          translated from the Lebensnachrichten, etc. Edited by Madam
          Hensler. Second Edition, with Selections from his Minor
          Writings. Edited & translated by Susanna Winkworth. 3 Vols. 8vo.
          Chapman Hall, 1852.

   [160]Theologia Germanica: which setteth forth many fair Lineaments of
          Divine Truth & saith very lofty & lovely things touching a
          Perfect Life. Translated by Susanna Winkworth. With a Preface by
          the Rev. Charles Kingsley, & a Letter to the Translator by the
          Chevalier Bunson. Fcap. 8vo.
          Longmans, 1954
          * The current edition of this book is published by Macmillan &
          Co.

   [161]The Lyra Germanica; Hymns for the Sundays & Chief Festivals of the
          Christian Year. Translated from the German by Catherine
          Winkworth. Fcap. 8vo.
          Longmans, 1855.

   New Edition with about 225 Illustrations from original Drawings,
          engraved on wood under the superintendence of John Leighton,
          F.S.A. Fcap. 8vo.
          Longmans, 1860.

   [162]Lyra Germanica: Second Series. The Christian Life. Translated by
          Catherine Winkworth. Fcap. 8vo.
          Longmans, 1858.

   New edition with about 200 Illustrations by John Leighton, F.S.A., E.
          Armitage, A.R.A., & F. Madox Brown. 4to.
          Longmans, 1867.

   Lyra Germanica. Translated from the German by Catherine Winkworth.
          First & Second Series in one volume. New Impression Brown 8vo.
          Longmans, 1901.

   First Series. New Edition. 16mo.
          Longmans, 1901.

   A Selection of Hymns from the Lyra Germanica by Catherine Winkworth.
          With Preface by Alexander Ewing, Bishop of Argyll. Fcap. 8vo.
          Longmans, 1859.

   The Life of Luther in Forty-eight Historical Engravings. By Gustav
          Koenig. With Explanations by Archdeacon Hare. Continued by
          Susanna Winkworth. Fcap. 4to.
          Longmans, 1855.

   Signs of the Times. Letters to Ernst Moritz Arndt on the Dangers to
          Religious Liberty in the Present State of the World. By
          Christian Charles Josias Bunsen. Translated by Susanna
          Winkworth. 8vo.
          Smith, Elder, & Co., 1856.

   German Love: from the Papers of an Alien. Translated by Susanna
          Winkworth. Crown 8vo.
          Chapman & Hall, 1857.

   The History & Life of the Reverend Doctor John Tauler of Strasbourg,
          with Twenty-five of his Sermons (temp. 1340). Translated from
          the German, with additional Notices of Tauler's Life & Times, by
          Susanna Winkworth, & a Preface by the Rev. Charles Kingsley.
          Fcap. 4to.
          Smith, Elder, & Co., 1857.
          * The current edition is issued by Mr. H. R. Allenson, Racquet
          Ct., Fleet St. Es.

   [163]The Chorale Book for England: A complete Hymn-book for Public &
          Private worship, in accordance with the Services & Festivals of
          the Church of England. The Hymns from the Lyra Germanica & other
          Sources, translated by Catherine Winkworth; the Tunes from the
          Sacred Music of the Lutheran, Latin, & other Churches, for Four
          Voices, with Historical Notes, etc. Compiled & edited by William
          Sterndale Bennett, Professor of Music in the University of
          Cambridge, & Otto Goldschmidt. Fcap. 4to.
          Longmans, 1862.

   The Life of Amelia Wilhelmina Sieveking. From the German. Edited with
          the Author's Sanction by Catherine Winkworth. With Portrait.
          Post 8vo.
          Longmans, 1863.

   Life of Pastor Fliedner of Kaiserwerth. Translated from the German by
          Catherine Winkworth. With Portrait. Fcap. 8vo.
          Longmans, 1867.

   God in History: or, the Progress of Man's Faith in the Moral Order of
          the World. By the late Baron Bunsen, D. Ph., D.C.L., D.D.
          Translated from the German by Susanna Winkworth; with a Preface
          by A. P. Stanley, D.D., Dean of Westminster. 3 Vols. 8vo.
          Longmans, 1868-70.

   [164]Christian Singers of Germany. By Catherine Winkworth. (The Sunday
          Library for Household Reading.) Crown 8vo.
          Macmillan, 1869.

   Prayers from the Collection of the late Baron Bunsen. Part I., For the
          Family. Part II., Prayers and Meditations from Private Use.
          Selected & translated by Catherine Winkworth. Fcap. 8vo.
          Longmans, 1871.
     __________________________________________________________________

                                    Indexes
     __________________________________________________________________

Subject Index

   Altenburg, [165]introw-p0.1, [166]introw-p0.5

   Angelus, [167]introx-p0.2

   Auf den Nebel folgt die Sonne, [168]H43-p3.1

   Aus tiefer Noth schrei ich zu dir, [169]H28-p3.1

   Bin ich allein ein Fremdling auf, [170]H24-p3.1

   Christ lag in Todesbanden, [171]H37-p3.1

   Christe, du Beistand deiner Kreuzgemeine, [172]H45-p3.1

   Dach_S, [173]introw-p0.4

   Dein Wort, O Herr, ist milder Thau, [174]H15-p3.1

   Der Mond ist aufgefangen, [175]H93-p1.1

   Der Tag ist hin mein Geist und, [176]H92-p1.1

   Die Seele ruht in Jesu Armen, [177]H102-p1.1

   Die goldene Sonne, [178]H86-p1.1

   Du o schönes Weltgebäude, [179]H74-p3.1

   Du weinest für Jerusalem, [180]H30-p3.1

   Du wesentliches Wort, [181]H6-p3.1

   Eber_P, [182]introv-p0.2

   Ehr und Dank sei Dir gesungen, [183]H83-p3.1

   Ein feste Burg, [184]H105-p2.1, [185]H72-p3.1

   Eins ist Noth, [186]H75-p3.1

   Erwach, o Mensch, erwache, [187]H26-p3.1

   Es ist noch eine Ruh vorhanden, [188]H80-p3.1

   Folget mir, ruft uns das Leben, [189]H77-p3.1

   Franck_J, [190]introx-p0.1

   Geh aus, mein Herz, und suche Freud, [191]H58-p3.1

   Geht hin ihr gläubigen Gedanken, [192]H52-p3.1

   Geht nun hin und grabt mein Grab, [193]H98-p1.1

   Gerhardt_P, [194]introw-p0.7

   Gieb dich zufrieden, [195]H66-p3.1

   Gott den ich als Liebe kenne, [196]H95-p1.1

   Gott dess Himmels und der Erden, [197]H85-p1.1

   Gott lebet noch, [198]H14-p3.1

   Guter Hirte willst du nicht, [199]H42-p3.1

   Höchster Priester, der du dich, [200]H13-p3.1

   Hört auf mit Trauern und mit Klag, [201]H101-p1.1

   Hüter, wird die Nacht der Sünden, [202]H1-p3.1

   Heil'ger Geist, du Tröster mein, [203]H44-p3.1

   Hermann_JG, [204]introw-p0.3

   Hermann_N, [205]introv-p0.5

   Herr Jesu Licht der Heiden, [206]H79-p3.1

   Herr Jesus Christ, wahr Mensch und Gott, [207]H97-p1.1

   Herr auf Erden muss ich leiden, [208]H46-p3.1

   Herz und Herz vereint zusammen, [209]H53-p3.1

   Herzliebster Jesu, was hast du, [210]H33-p3.1

   Hier lieg ich nun mein Gott zu deinen, [211]H27-p3.1

   Hier lieg' ich, Herr, im Staube, [212]H16-p3.1

   Himmelwärts geht unsere Bahn, [213]H47-p3.1

   Hinunter ist der Sonnenschein, [214]H90-p1.1

   Hochheilige Dreieinigkeit, [215]H51-p3.1

   Hosianna! Davids Sohn, [216]H29-p3.1

   Ich lass dich nicht, du Hülf' in, [217]H25-p3.1

   Ist Gott für mich so trete, [218]H56-p3.1

   Jesu deine tiefen Wunden, [219]H31-p3.1

   Jesus meine Zuversicht, [220]H40-p5.1

   Keine Schönheit hat die Welt, [221]H20-p3.1

   Komm Heidenheiland, Lösegeld, [222]H76-p3.1

   Komm Heil'ger Geist, Herre Gott, [223]H50-p3.1

   Kommt Brüder lasst uns gehen, [224]H68-p3.1

   Kommt an der Tod, da ich muss ringen, [225]H96-p1.1

   Kreuz wir grüssen dich von Herzen, [226]H65-p3.1

   Längst suchtest du, mein Geist, ein, [227]H78-p3.1

   Lass dich Gott, [228]H67-p3.1

   Lebst du in mir o wahres Leben, [229]H8-p3.1

   Luther, [230]introv-p0.1

   Macht hoch die Thür, die Thor macht, [231]H4-p3.1

   Mein Gott in deine Hände, [232]H100-p1.1

   Meine Seele senket sich, [233]H81-p3.1

   Mitten wir im Leben sind, [234]H94-p1.1

   Morgenglanz der Ewigkeit, [235]H88-p1.1

   Nach dir, o Gott verlanget mich, [236]H61-p3.1

   Notker, [237]introv-p0.3

   Nun ruhen alle Wälder, [238]H91-p1.1

   Nun tret ich wieder aus der Ruh, [239]H89-p1.1

   O Ewigkeit, o Ewigkeit, [240]H11-p3.1

   O Gott, o Geist, o Licht des Lebens, [241]H59-p3.1

   O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden, [242]H34-p3.1

   O dass ich tausend Zungen hätte, [243]H71-p3.1

   O der alles hätt verloren, [244]H57-p3.1

   O du Liebe meiner Liebe, [245]H35-p3.1

   O liebe Seele könnt'st du werden, [246]H9-p3.1

   O reines Wesen, lautre Quelle, [247]H18-p3.1

   O wie selig seid ihr doch irh Frommen, [248]H103-p1.1

   Prudentius, [249]introv-p0.4

   Ringe recht wenn Gottes Gnade, [250]H19-p3.1

   Rist, [251]introw-p0.2

   Schmükt das Fest mit Maien, [252]H48-p3.1

   Seele du musst munter werden, [253]H87-p1.1

   So führst du doch recht selig Herr, [254]H73-p3.1

   So hab ich obgesieget, [255]H99-p1.1

   Sollt ich meinem Gott nicht singen, [256]H82-p3.1

   Straf mich nicht in deinem Zorn, [257]H23-p3.1

   Su ruhest du, o meine Ruh, [258]H36-p3.1

   Tersteegen_G, [259]introx-p0.4

   Ulrich_A, [260]introx-p0.7

   Unter jenen grossen Gütern, [261]H21-p3.1

   Verklärtes Haupt nun lebst du, [262]H38-p3.1

   Verzage nicht du Haüflein klein, [263]H7-p3.1

   Von Himmel hoch da komm ich her, [264]H5-p3.1

   Wach auf, du Geist der ersten Zeugen, [265]H17-p3.1

   Wach' auf, wach' auf du sich're Welt, [266]H2-p3.1

   Was du vor tausend Jahren, [267]H22-p3.1

   Was kinket ihr betrognen Seelen, [268]H60-p3.1

   Was von aussen und von innen, [269]H54-p3.1

   Was wär ich ohne dich gewesen, [270]H41-p3.1

   Wenn alle untreu werden, [271]H69-p5.1

   Wenn meine Sünd' mich kränken, [272]H32-p3.1

   Wer hofft mit Christo dort zu erben, [273]H55-p3.1

   Wer nur den lieben Gott lässt walten, [274]H64-p3.1

   Wer sich auf seiner Schwachkeit steurt, [275]H63-p3.1

   Wer sind die vor Gottes Throne, [276]H84-p3.1

   Werde Licht du Stadt der Heiden, [277]H12-p3.1

   Wie soll ich dich empfangen, [278]H3-p3.1

   Wie wohl ist mir o Freund der Seelen, [279]H62-p3.1

   Willkommen Held im Streite, [280]H39-p3.1

   Wir singen dir Immanuel, [281]H10-p3.1

   Wohl dem der sich mit Fleiss bemuhet, [282]H70-p3.1

   Zeuch ein zu deinen Thoren, [283]H49-p3.1

   ambrose, [284]introu-p0.1, [285]introx-p0.3

   bohemian, [286]introx-p0.9

   canitz, [287]introx-p0.10

   dessler, [288]introx-p0.5

   louisa, [289]introw-p0.8

   lowenstn, [290]introw-p0.6

   neumarck, [291]introw-p0.9

   novalis, [292]introx-p0.6

   schmolck, [293]introx-p0.8
     __________________________________________________________________

Index of Scripture References

   Genesis

   [294]1:3   [295]1:26

   Numbers

   [296]11:29

   1 Kings

   [297]18:21

   Job

   [298]19:25-26   [299]19:25-26

   Psalms

   [300]5:3   [301]16:12   [302]27:4   [303]41:3   [304]46   [305]46
   [306]47:1   [307]90:12   [308]104:24   [309]130:1   [310]130:3
   [311]141:2   [312]148:13

   Proverbs

   [313]3:5

   Isaiah

   [314]25:9   [315]37:14   [316]51:6   [317]53:5   [318]55:10
   [319]60:1   [320]64:1-2

   Jeremiah

   [321]23:5

   Lamentations

   [322]1:16

   Joel

   [323]2:17

   Matthew

   [324]1:23   [325]4:1-2   [326]6:31-32   [327]8:26   [328]10:28
   [329]15:23-28   [330]18:3   [331]21:9   [332]25:36   [333]27:59-60

   Mark

   [334]1:17-18   [335]13:28-29

   Luke

   [336]1:38   [337]2:10   [338]2:29-30   [339]7:13   [340]10:41-42
   [341]18:42-43   [342]19:14   [343]23:20-22   [344]24:35-36

   John

   [345]1:14   [346]8:12   [347]10:11   [348]14:16-17   [349]16:7
   [350]16:22   [351]16:33   [352]20:29   [353]21:22

   Acts

   [354]1:11   [355]7:8-11   [356]14:15

   Romans

   [357]5:8   [358]6:3   [359]6:7-8   [360]6:9   [361]8:12-13
   [362]8:18   [363]12:1   [364]13:12

   1 Corinthians

   [365]1:7-8   [366]9:26   [367]13:13   [368]15:53

   2 Corinthians

   [369]3:5

   Galatians

   [370]5:24

   Ephesians

   [371]4:1-3   [372]4:20-24   [373]5:14   [374]5:19-20   [375]6:10-12

   Philippians

   [376]3:20-21   [377]4:4

   Colossians

   [378]3:1

   Hebrews

   [379]1:14   [380]9:26   [381]10:10   [382]11:1   [383]11:13
   [384]11:16

   1 Peter

   [385]3:13-14   [386]5:7

   1 John

   [387]3:3   [388]3:23   [389]4:2   [390]4:10   [391]5:11

   Revelation

   [392]7:9-10   [393]14:13   [394]14:13
     __________________________________________________________________

Index of Scripture Commentary

   Genesis

   [395]1:26

   Numbers

   [396]11:29

   1 Kings

   [397]18:21

   Job

   [398]19:25-26

   Psalms

   [399]16:12   [400]46   [401]46   [402]47:1   [403]90:12   [404]104:24
   [405]130:1   [406]130:3   [407]148:13

   Proverbs

   [408]3:5

   Isaiah

   [409]25:9   [410]37:14   [411]51:6   [412]53:5   [413]55:10
   [414]60:1   [415]64:1-2

   Jeremiah

   [416]23:5

   Joel

   [417]2:17

   Matthew

   [418]1:23   [419]4:1-2   [420]6:31-32   [421]8:26   [422]10:28
   [423]15:23-28   [424]18:3   [425]21:9   [426]27:59-60

   Mark

   [427]1:17-18   [428]13:28-29

   Luke

   [429]1:38   [430]2:10   [431]2:29-30   [432]7:13   [433]10:41-42
   [434]18:42-43   [435]19:14   [436]23:20-22   [437]24:35-36

   John

   [438]1:14   [439]10:11   [440]14:16-17   [441]16:7   [442]16:22
   [443]16:33   [444]20:29   [445]21:22

   Acts

   [446]1:11   [447]7:8-11   [448]14:15

   Romans

   [449]5:8   [450]6:3   [451]6:9   [452]8:12-13   [453]8:18   [454]12:1
   [455]13:12

   1 Corinthians

   [456]1:7-8   [457]9:26   [458]13:13   [459]15:53

   2 Corinthians

   [460]3:5

   Galatians

   [461]5:24

   Ephesians

   [462]4:1-3   [463]4:20-24   [464]5:14   [465]5:19-20   [466]6:10-12

   Philippians

   [467]3:20-21   [468]4:4

   Colossians

   [469]3:1

   Hebrews

   [470]1:14   [471]9:26   [472]10:10   [473]11:1   [474]11:13
   [475]11:16

   1 Peter

   [476]3:13-14   [477]5:7

   1 John

   [478]3:3   [479]3:23   [480]4:2   [481]4:10   [482]5:11

   Revelation

   [483]7:9-10
     __________________________________________________________________

Index of Pages of the Print Edition

   [484]vii  [485]viii  [486]ix  [487]x  [488]xi  [489]xii  [490]xiii
   [491]xiv  [492]xv  [493]1  [494]2  [495]3  [496]4  [497]5  [498]6
   [499]7  [500]8  [501]9  [502]10  [503]11  [504]12  [505]13  [506]14
   [507]15  [508]16  [509]17  [510]18  [511]19  [512]20  [513]21  [514]22
   [515]23  [516]24  [517]25  [518]26  [519]27  [520]28  [521]29  [522]30
   [523]31  [524]32  [525]33  [526]34  [527]35  [528]36  [529]37  [530]38
   [531]39  [532]40  [533]41  [534]42  [535]43  [536]44  [537]45  [538]46
   [539]47  [540]48  [541]49  [542]50  [543]51  [544]52  [545]53  [546]54
   [547]55  [548]56  [549]57  [550]58  [551]59  [552]60  [553]61  [554]62
   [555]63  [556]64  [557]65  [558]66  [559]67  [560]68  [561]69  [562]70
   [563]71  [564]72  [565]73  [566]74  [567]75  [568]76  [569]77  [570]78
   [571]79  [572]80  [573]81  [574]82  [575]83  [576]84  [577]85  [578]86
   [579]87  [580]88  [581]89  [582]90  [583]91  [584]92  [585]93  [586]94
   [587]95  [588]96  [589]97  [590]98  [591]99  [592]100  [593]101
   [594]102  [595]103  [596]104  [597]105  [598]106  [599]107  [600]108
   [601]109  [602]110  [603]111  [604]112  [605]113  [606]114  [607]115
   [608]116  [609]117  [610]118  [611]119  [612]120  [613]121  [614]122
   [615]123  [616]124  [617]125  [618]126  [619]127  [620]128  [621]129
   [622]130  [623]131  [624]132  [625]133  [626]134  [627]135  [628]136
   [629]137  [630]138  [631]139  [632]140  [633]141  [634]142  [635]143
   [636]144  [637]145  [638]146  [639]147  [640]148  [641]149  [642]150
   [643]151  [644]152  [645]153  [646]154  [647]155  [648]156  [649]157
   [650]158  [651]159  [652]160  [653]161  [654]162  [655]163  [656]164
   [657]165  [658]166  [659]167  [660]168  [661]169  [662]170  [663]171
   [664]172  [665]173  [666]174  [667]175  [668]176  [669]177  [670]178
   [671]179  [672]180  [673]181  [674]182  [675]183  [676]184  [677]185
   [678]186  [679]187  [680]188  [681]189  [682]190  [683]191  [684]192
   [685]193  [686]194  [687]195  [688]196  [689]197  [690]198  [691]199
   [692]200  [693]201  [694]202  [695]203  [696]204  [697]205  [698]206
   [699]207  [700]208  [701]209  [702]210  [703]211  [704]212  [705]213
   [706]214  [707]215  [708]216  [709]217  [710]218  [711]219  [712]220
   [713]221  [714]222  [715]223  [716]224  [717]225  [718]226  [719]227
   [720]228  [721]229  [722]230  [723]231  [724]232  [725]233  [726]234
   [727]235  [728]236  [729]237  [730]238  [731]239  [732]240  [733]241
   [734]243  [735]242  [736]244  [737]245  [738]246  [739]247  [740]248
   [741]249  [742]250  [743]251  [744]252  [745]253  [746]254  [747]255
   [748]256  [749]257  [750]259  [751]258  [752]260  [753]261  [754]262
   [755]263  [756]264  [757]265
     __________________________________________________________________

            This document is from the Christian Classics Ethereal
               Library at Calvin College, http://www.ccel.org,
                   generated on demand from ThML source.

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  77. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.heermann.html
  78. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.gesenius.html
  79. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.heermann.html
  80. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.gerhardt.html
  81. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.schefflr.html
  82. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.franck.html
  83. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.luther.html
  84. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.tersteeg.html
  85. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.schmolck.html
  86. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.louisa.html
  87. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.novalis.html
  88. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.schefflr.html
  89. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.gerhardt.html
  90. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.robert.html
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 100. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.frankeah.html
 101. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.dach.html
 102. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.gerhardt.html
 103. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.anon.html
 104. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.gerhardt.html
 105. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.tersteeg.html
 106. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.lehr.html
 107. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.ulrich.html
 108. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.dessler.html
 109. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.marpergr.html
 110. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.neumarck.html
 111. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.gotter.html
 112. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.gerhardt.html
 113. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.ulrich.html
 114. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.tersteeg.html
 115. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.novalis.html
 116. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.anon.html
 117. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.mentzer.html
 118. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.luther.html
 119. file:///ccel/w/winkworth/lyra/cache/lyra.html3#H105
 120. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.arnold.html
 121. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.franckj.html
 122. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.schroder.html
 123. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.franckj.html
 124. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.ambrose.html
 125. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.rist.html
 126. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.albertin.html
 127. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.franckj.html
 128. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.kunth.html
 129. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.winkler.html
 130. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.gerhardt.html
 131. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.rist.html
 132. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.schenk.html
 133. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.albert.html
 134. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.gerhardt.html
 135. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.canitz.html
 136. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.rosenrot.html
 137. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.ulrich.html
 138. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.hermannn.html
 139. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.gerhardt.html
 140. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.freyling.html
 141. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.claudius.html
 142. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.notker.html
 143. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.luther.html
 144. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.richter.html
 145. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.anon.html
 146. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.eber.html
 147. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.arndte.html
 148. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.sacer.html
 149. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.hillerpf.html
 150. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.prudenti.html
 151. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.hermannn.html
 152. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.allendrf.html
 153. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.dach.html
 154. file:///ccel/winkworth/hyndwink.luther.html
 155. file:///ccel/winkworth/chorales.html
 156. file:///ccel/winkworth/singers.html
 157. file:///ccel/w/winkworth/lyra/cache/lyra.html3#H72
 158. file:///ccel/w/winkworth/lyra/cache/lyra.html3#introy
 159. file:///ccel/w/winkworth/lyra/cache/lyra.html3#app_mem
 160. file:///ccel/anonymous/theologia.html
 161. file:///ccel/winkworth/lyra.html
 162. file:///ccel/winkworth/life.html
 163. file:///ccel/winkworth/chorales.html
 164. file:///ccel/winkworth/singers.html
 165. file:///ccel/w/winkworth/lyra/cache/lyra.html3#introw-p0.1
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