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152

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

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.

153

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.

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