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“Endlich bricht der heisse Tiegel.”

BY F. HARTMANN.

456

F. Hartmann

James W. Alexander

1 Now the crucible is breaking;

Now my faith its seal is taking;

Molten gold, unhurt by fire,

Only thus, ’tis ever given,

Up to joys of highest heaven,

For God’s children to aspire.

2 Thus by griefs the Lord is moulding

Mind and spirit, here unfolding

His own image, to endure.

Now he shapes our dust, but later

Is the inner man’s creator;

Thus he works by trial sure.

3 Sorrows quell our insurrection,

Bring our members to subjection,

Under Christ’s prevailing will;

While the broken powers he raises

To the work of holy praises

Quietly and softly still.

4 Sorrows gather home the senses,

Lest, seduced by earth’s pretenses,

They should after idols stroll,

Like an angel-guard, repelling

Evil from the inmost dwelling,

Bringing order to the soul.

5 Sorrow now the harp is stringing

For the everlasting singing,

Teaching us to soar above;

Where the blessed choir, palm-bearing,

Harps are playing, crowns are wearing,

Round the throne with songs of love.

6 Sorrow makes alert and daring;

Sorrow is our clay preparing

For the cold rest of the grave;

Sorrow is a herald, hasting,

Of that springtide whose unwasting

Health the dying soul shall save.

7 Sorrow makes our faith abiding,

Lowly, childlike, and confiding;

Sorrow! who can speak thy grace?

Earth may name the tribulation,

Heaven has nobler appellation;

Not thus honored all our race.

8 Brethren these our perturbations,

Step by step, through many stations,

Lead disciples to their sun.

Soon, though many a pang has wasted,

Soon, though many a death been tasted,

Sorrow’s watch of sighs is done.

9 Though the healthful powers were willing,

All the Master’s will fulfilling

By obedience to be tried,

Oh! ’tis still no less a blessing,

Such a Master’s care possessing,

In his furnace to abide.

10 In the depth of keenest anguish,

More and more the heart shall languish

After Jesus’ loving heart,

For one blessing only crying:

“Make me like thee in thy dying,

Then thy endless life impart.”

11 Till at length, with sighs all breaking,

Through each bond its passage taking,

Lo! the vail is rent in twain!

Who remembers now earth’s treasure?

What a sea of godlike pleasure

High in heaven swells amain!

12 Now, with Jesus ever reigning,

Where the ransomed home are gaining,

Bathing in the endless light.

All the heavenly ones are meeting!

Brothers, sisters—let us, greeting,

Claim them ours, by kindred right.

13 Jesus! toward that height of heaven

May a prospect clear be given,

Till the parting hour shall come.

Then, from pangs emerging brightly,

May we all be wafted lightly

By angelic convoy home!

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