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Hymn for Summer. II.

All Thy works praise Thee, O Lord, and Thy saints give thanks unto Thee.

Ps. cxlv. 10.

Paul Gerhard. 1606-1676.

Frances E. Cox. Tr. 1864

Come forth, my heart, and seek delight

In each delicious sound and sight,

This joyful summer morning:

See, how God’s goodly gifts abound,

And mark how all the plains around

His hand hath been adorning.

Rich foliage decks each waving tree,

And what a rich green mantle, see,

The earth is now arraying:

Bright lilies and narcissus fair,

Than robes of Israel’s king more rare,

Their beauties are displaying.

The thrilling lark ascends the sky,

The dove forsakes her tower on high,

Swift to the woods retiring;

The richly-gifted nightingale

Pours forth her notes o’er hill and vale,

Delight her song inspiring.

The hen walks forth her brood among,

The swallow feeds her clamorous young,

The stork protects her dwelling:

The stag and roe, with footstep light,

Come bounding from the neighbouring height,

Joy in each movement telling.

The little brooks run babbling by,

Their margin bordered beauteously

With trees, in shade abounding:

The sheep’s low bleat, and shout of joy

Sent forth by idle shepherd-boy,

From meadows green come sounding.

Th’ unwearied bees, on busy wing,

From flower to flower flit murmuring,

And seek their honied treasure;

While on the vine, from day to day,

New strength the tender shoots display,

Each day increase in measure.

Green ears the wheat-blades now unfold,

And all rejoice, both young and old,

The God of harvest praising;

From Whom this rich abundance flows,

Who every precious gift bestows,

Men’s hearts with gladness raising.

I too my part will gladly take;

God’s glorious works my heart awake,

And soul and spirit capture:

Since all are singing, I will sing,

Will bring my grateful offering,

And join the hymn of rapture.

If in this earthly scene below

Thyself so glorious Thou dost shew,

To us poor sinful mortals,

Then what, when earth is past and gone,

Will be the joy before Thy Throne,

Within the golden portals?

What matchless rays, what light divine

In Christ’s own Paradise will shine,

What sounds be ever ringing,

Where thousand seraph hosts rejoice,

With ceaseless and unwearied voice

Their Alleluias singing!

Oh! that with God’s exulting band

I even now might take my stand,

With them might now adore Him,

And, bearing high victorious palms,

Sing praise in thousand joyful psalms,

As angels do, before Him!

Yet silence here I will not keep,

The while on earth I still must creep,

This body’s burden bearing:

My heart shall evermore be bent

Its thankful homage to present,

Jehovah’s praise declaring.

Lord! let my spirit but be filled

With softening dews from heaven distilled,

That it through Thee may flourish:

Grant that the summer of Thy Grace,

Within my heart’s unfertile place,

The fruits of Faith may nourish.

For Thee within my soul make room,

Let me a thriving tree become,

Thy bounteous blessing sharing;

Make me a goodly plant to grow,

Within thy garden here below,

Abundant blossoms bearing.

Let every branch and tender shoot

Be laden here with precious fruit,

That, when from earth transplanted,

To Paradise my soul may soar,

To praise Thee better, love Thee more:

Oh! may this prayer be granted!

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