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Nicht so traurig, nicht so sehr



O my soul, why dost thou grieve,

Why dost mourn so bitterly,

That more freely God doth give

Gifts to others than to thee?

In thy God delight thy heart,

He’s the good enduring part.

Of the human race have none

In this world to be a right,

All, yea each created one,

But a guest is for a night.

God in His house Lord is still,

Gifts divideth as He will.

Know, thou art not therefore here,

That thou should’st possess the earth;

Look thou up to heav’n so clear,

There’s thy gold of priceless worth,

There is honour, there is joy,

Without envy or alloy!

Great the folly his who grieves

For a little vanity,

When God to him freely gives

Treasures of eternity.

Is the handredweight thy gain?

Thou canst then despise the grain.

All thy fair possessions see,

That are valued by thy heart,

None of them can go with thee

When from earth thou must depart.

Thou must leave them here below,

When death’s door thou passest through.

The soul’s nourishment, God’s grace,

And the Saviour’s precious blood,

Ne’er through time in worth decrease,

But remain for ever good.


Earthly goods must pass away,

Soul-goods never can decay.

Still art thou so blind, alas!

Thinking—but all erringly,

Eyes hast thou, but in the glass

Of the word thou dost not see.

Child of man! fix there thine eyes,

For it is a peerless prize.

Count thy fingers every one,

And thine other members o’er,

They are precious, they’re thine own,

Lov’d by thee than treasure more,

Gold could never from thee buy

E’en the least, though men should try.

Search and ask thine inmost heart,

’Twill instruct thee what of good

Daily falleth to thy part,

By God’s bounteous hand bestow’d;

Than the sand upon the shore

More, and yet desir’st thou more!

Did thy Heav’nly Father see

That it would be for thy good,

What desires so eagerly

Thy misguided flesh and blood,

He would ne’er thee joyless leave,

But would of His bounty give.

God to thee is full of love,

Faithful and sincere is He,

When thou wishest aught, He’d prove

Of what kind thy wish may be:

If ’tis good, He will bestow,

If ’tis ill, He’ll answer—no.

Meanwhile doth His Spirit give

Manna to thy fainting heart,

Food by which the angels live,

Grace to deck thee doth impart,

For His portion chooseth thee,

Thou shalt share salvation free.

Look then to thy God above,

Sad and troubled countenance!

Cease to sigh, faith’s virtue prove,

By thy clear and joyous glance!


While thy sky is overcast

By affliction, hold it fast!

And as Heav’n’s adopted son,

Thy rebellious will restrain;

Touch thy harp, let ’fore God’s throne

Grateful songs resound again.

More at all times doth God give

Than thou’rt worthy to receive.

Live thou ever in God’s fear,

As thou journeyest to heav’n,

Take whate’er befalls thee here

As a gift in wisdom giv’n.

Are they evil days, thou’lt see

God and Heav’n endure for thee.

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