« Prev Twentieth Sunday after Trinity: Rejoicing in God… Next »

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]


O dass ich tausend Zungen hätte

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.

« Prev Twentieth Sunday after Trinity: Rejoicing in God… Next »
VIEWNAME is workSection