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         Title: Lyra Germanica: The Christian Year
    Creator(s): Winkworth, Catherine
   Print Basis: London: Longman, Green, Longman, and Roberts, 1861.
        Rights: Public Domain
    LC Call no: BV355.G3 W7
   LC Subjects:

   Practical theology

   Worship (Public and Private) Including the church year, Christian
   symbols, liturgy, prayer, hymnology

   Hymnology
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                                Lyra Germanica:
                             Hymns for the Sundays
                                       &
                                Chief Festivals
                                       of
                               The Christian Year

   Translated from the German by Catherine Winkworth
   With Illustrations by and engraved under the Superintendence of
   John Leighton, F.S.A.
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   LONDON
   Longman, Green, Longman, and Roberts.
   1861.
   TO
   HIS
   EXCELLENCY
   THE
   CHEVALIER BUNSEN,
   THESE HYMNS ARE
   BY HIS KIND PERMISSION
   RESPECTFULLY
   AND GRATEFULLY
   DEDICATED
   BY THE
   TRANSLATOR.
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Preface

   The following hymns are selected from the Chevalier Bunsen's "Versuch
   eines allgemeinen Gesang und Gebetbuchs," published in 1833. From the
   large number there given, about nine hundred, little more than one
   hundred have been chosen. This selection contains many of those best
   known and loved in Germany; but in a work of this size it is impossible
   to include all that have become classical in that home of Christian
   poetry. In reading them it must be remembered that they are hymns, not
   sacred poems, though from their length and the intricacy of their
   metres, many of them may seem to English readers adapted rather to
   purposes of private than of public devotion. But the singing of hymns
   forms a much larger and more important part of public worship in the
   German Reformed Churches than in our own services. It is the mode by
   which the whole congregation is enabled to bear its part in the worship
   of God, answering in this respect to the chanting of our own liturgy.
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   Ever since the Reformation, the German Church has been remarkable for
   the number and excellence of its hymns and hymn-tunes. Before that time
   it was not so. There was no place for congregational singing in public
   worship, and therefore the spiritual songs of the latter part of the
   middle ages assumed for the most part an artificial and unpopular form.
   Yet there were not wanting germs of a national Church poetry in the
   verses rather than hymns which were sung in German on pilgrimages and
   at some of the high festivals, many of which verses were again derived
   from more ancient Latin hymns. Several of [1]Luther's hymns are
   amplifications of verses of this class, such as the Pentecostal hymn
   here given, "[2]Come, Holy Spirit, God and Lord," which is founded on a
   German version of the "Veni Sancte Spiritus, Reple." By adopting these
   verses, and retaining their well-known melodies, Luther enabled his
   hymns to spread rapidly among the common people. He also composed
   metrical versions of several of the Psalms, the Te Deum, the Ten
   Commandments, the Lord's Prayer, the Nunc Dimittis, the Da nobis Pacem,
   &c., thus enriching the people, to whom he had already given the Holy
   Scriptures in their own language, with a treasure of that sacred poetry
   which is the precious inheritance of every Christian church.
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   The hymn, "[3]In the midst of life," is one of those founded on a more
   ancient hymn, the "Media in vita" of [4]Notker, a learned Benedictine
   of St. Gall, who died in 912. He is said to have composed it while
   watching some workmen, who were building the bridge of Martinsbruck at
   the peril of their lives. It was soon set to music, and became
   universally known; indeed it was used as a battle song, until the
   custom was forbidden on account of its being supposed to exercise
   magical influences. In a German version it formed part of the service
   for the burial of the dead, as early as the thirteenth century, and is
   still preserved in an unmetrical form in the Burial Service of our own
   Church.

   The carol, "[5]From Heaven above to earth I come," is called by
   [6]Luther himself, "A Christmas child's song concerning the child
   Jesus." He wrote it for his little boy Hans, when the latter was five
   years old, and it is still sung from the dome of the Kreuzkirche in
   Dresden before day-break on the morning of Christmas Day. It refers to
   the custom, then and long afterwards prevalent in Germany, of making at
   Christmas-time representations of the manger with the infant Jesus. But
   the most famous of his hymns is the noble version of the 46th Psalm,
   "[7]A sure stronghold our God is He," which may be called the national
   hymn of his Protestant countrymen. Luther's hymns are wanting in
   harmony and correctness of metre to a degree which often makes them
   jarring to our modern ears, but they are always full of fire and
   strength, of clear Christian faith, and brave joyful trust in God.

   From his time there has been a constant succession of hymn writers in
   the German Church. [8]Paul Eber, an intimate friend of Melancthon,
   wrote for his children the hymn, "[9]Lord Jesus Christ, true Man and
   God," which soon became a favorite hymn for the dying. Hugo Grotius
   asked that it might be repeated to him in his last moments, and expired
   ere its conclusion. Another hymn of the same class is, "[10]Now hush
   your cries, and shed no tear," the "Jam moesta quiesce querela" of
   [11]Prudentius II. translated by [12]Nicholas Hermann, the pious
   precentor of Joachimsthal, a hymn long sung at every festival.
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   The terrible times of the Thirty years' War were rich in sacred poetry.
   [13]Rist, a clergyman in North Germany, who suffered much in his youth
   from mental conflicts, and in after years from plunder, pestilence, and
   all the horrors of war, used to say, "the dear cross hath pressed many
   songs out of me," and this seems to have been equally true of many of
   his contemporaries. It certainly was true of [14]Johann Hermann, the
   author of some of the most touching hymns for Passion Week, who wrote
   his sweet songs under great physical sufferings from ill health, and
   amidst the perils of war, during which he more than once esaped murder
   as by a miracle. So too the hymns of [15]Simon Dach, professor of
   poetry in the University of Koningsberg, speak of the sufferings of the
   Christian, and his longing to escape from the strife of earth to the
   peace of heaven.

   But the Christians of those days had often not only to suffer, but to
   fight for their faith, and in the hymns of [16]Altenburg and [17]von
   Loewenstern we have two that may be called battle songs of the Church.
   The former published his hymn, "[18]Fear not, O little flock, the foe,"
   in 1631, with this title: "A heart-cheering song of comfort on the
   watch word of the Evangelical Army in the battle of Leipsic, September
   5th, 1631, God with us." It was called Gustavus Adolphus's battle song,
   because the pious hero often sang it with his army; and he sang it for
   the last time immediately before the battle of Luetzen. The latter, von
   Loewenstern, was the son of a saddler, but was ennobled by the Emporer,
   Ferdinand III. for his public services: he was at once a statesman,
   poet, and musician. His hymn, "[19]Christ, Thou the champion of the
   band," was a favorite of Niebuhr.

   Another favorite hymn of Niebuhr was the [20]hymn to Eternity, the
   greater part of which is of very ancient but uncertain date. It
   received its present form about the middle of the 17th century.

   Many of the hymns of [21]Paul Gerhardt belong to this period, though he
   lived until 1676, long after the conclusion of peace. He is without
   doubt the greatest of the German hymn writers, possessing loftier
   poetical genius, and a richer variety of thought and feeling than any
   other. His beautiful hymn, "[22]Commit thou all thy [griefs and] ways,"
   is already well known to us through Wesley's translation, and many
   [23]others of his are not inferior to it. He was a zealous preacher for
   several years at the Nicolai-Kirch in Berlin; whence he retired because
   he had not sufficient freedom in preaching the truth, and became
   Archdeacon of Luebben. With him culminated the elder school of German
   sacred poetry, a school distinguished by its depth and simplicity. Most
   of its hymns are either written for the high festivals and services of
   the Church, or are expressive of a simple Christian faith, ready to
   dare or suffer all things for God's sake. To this school we must refer,
   from their spirit, two hymns written a little later; the first is
   "[24]Jesus my Redeemer Lives," one of the most favorite Easter hymns,
   written by the pious [25]Electress of Brandenburgh, who founded the
   Orphan House at Oranienburg. The other, "[26]Leave God to order all thy
   ways," was written by [27]George Neumarck, Secretary to the Archives at
   Weimar. It spread rapidly among the common people, at first without the
   author's name. A baker's boy in New Brandenburgh used to sing it over
   his work, and soon the whole town and neighbourhood flocked to him to
   learn this beautiful new song.
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   In the latter half of the seventeenth century a new school was founded
   by [28]Johann Franck, and [29]Johann Scheffler, commonly called
   Angelus. The former was burgomaster of Guben in Lusatia; the latter
   physician to Ferdinand III., but in 1663 he became a Roman Catholic,
   and afterwards a priest. The pervading idea of this school is the
   longing of the soul for that intimate union with the Redeemer of the
   world, which begins with the birth of Christ in the heart, and is
   perfected after death. This longing breathes through the hymns of
   Franck given in this collection; one of them, "[30]Redeemer of the
   nations, come," is a translation of the "Veni, Redemptor gentium" of
   [31]St. Ambrose. Angelus dwells rather on the means of attaining this
   union by the sacrifice of the Self to God through the great High-priest
   of mankind, an idea expressed in his hymns with peculiar tenderness and
   sweetness. We find much of his spirit and sweetness lingering in modern
   times about the few hymns of the gifted [32]Novalis.

   The greatest poet of this school is however [33]Gerhard Tersteegen, who
   lived during the early part of the eighteenth century as a ribbon
   manufacturer at Muehlheim. His hymns have great beauty, and bespeak a
   tranquil and childlike soul filled and blessed with the contemplation
   of God. The well-known hymn of Wesley's, [34]"Lo God is here! let us
   adore," belongs to him, and in its original shape is one of the most
   beautiful he ever wrote, but is frequently met with only in a
   disfigured and mutilated form. To this school belong a large number of
   the hymns in this collection, among which those of [35]Deszler, an
   excellent philologist of Nuremburgh, and of [36]Anton Ulrich, the pious
   and learned Duke of Brunswick, are particularly good. Those of
   [37]Schmolck, the pastor of Schweidnitz, who exercised great influence
   over the hymn-writing of his day, have more simplicity than most of the
   rest, but are characterized by a curious mixture of real poetry and
   deep feeling with occasional vulgarities of expression. The defects of
   this school, which showed themselves strongly in the course of the
   eighteenth century, were a tendancy that the feeling should degenerate
   into sentimentality, and the devout dwelling of the heart on Christ's
   great sacrifice into compassion and gratitude for His physical
   sufferings,--defects which greatly disfigure many of the [38]Moravian
   hymns. In some of the hymns here translated the expression "Christi
   Wundenhoehle" occurs, which has been rendered by the blood or cross of
   Christ, as being phrases at once more scriptural and more consonant to
   our feelings. There were not wanting, however, even at this period,
   many hymns fit for good soldiers of Jesus Christ, such as "[39]Who
   seeks in weakness an excuse," and others of the same kind.
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   Germany is rich in [40]Morning and [41]Evening Hymns, and [42]Hymns for
   the Dying, of which a few are given in these translations. Among these
   is the [43]morning hymn of [44]Baron von Canitz: I was not aware until
   after translating it that it had been already published at the close of
   one volume of Dr. Arnold's sermons.

   The hymn "[45]How blest to all Thy followers, Lord, the road," was the
   favourite hymn of Schelling.

   In translating these hymns the original form has been retained, with
   the exception, that single rhymes are generally substituted for the
   double rhymes which the structure of the language renders so common in
   German poetry, but which become cloying to an English ear when
   constantly repeated; and that English double common or short metre is
   used instead of what may be called the German common metre, the same
   that we call Gay's stanza, to which it approximates closely in the
   number of syllables, while its associations in our minds are somewhat
   more solemn. In a few instances slight alterations have been made in
   the metre, when, as is the case with some excellent hymns in our own
   language, it is hardly grave and dignified enough for the poetry. These
   alterations are but slight, and seemed justifiable, since these hymns
   have been translated, not so much as specimens of German hymn-writing,
   as in the hope that these utterances of German piety which have
   comforted and strengthened the hearts of many true Christians in their
   native country, may speak to the hearts of some among us, to help and
   cheer those who must strive and suffer, and to make us feel afresh what
   a deep and true Communion of Saints exists among all the children of
   God in different Churches and lands.

   Alderley Edge,
   July 16th,
   1855
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   In the second edition a few corrections have been made
   and additional verses given in some of the hymns: a few
   among them are however still given in an abbreviated
   form, where the omitted verses appeared to be
   decidedly inferior in merit, or to contain no
   new thought. I have also exchanged the
   former version of "Ein feste Burg"
   for one, as it seems to me, much
   superior, which I owe to
   the kindness of the
   Rev. William
   Gaskell. [1]
   Nov.
   30,
   1855.
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   [1] The electronic edition includes the original in an appendix.
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First sunday in Advent

   The night is far spent, the day is at hand; let us therefore cast off
   the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light

   From the Epistle. [Rom. 13:12]

   8,4,10,10,4,10

   Hueter, wird die Nacht der Suenden

   [46]Richter. 1704.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   O Watchman, will the night of sin

   Be never past?

   O watchman, doth the tarrying day begin

   To dawn upon thy straining sight at last?

   Will it dispel

   Ere long the mists of sin wherein I dwell?


   Now all the earth is bright and glad

   With the fresh morn;

   But all my heart is cold and dark and sad;

   Sun of the soul, let me behold Thy dawn!

   Come, Jesus, Lord!

   Oh quickly come, according to Thy word!


   Do we not live in those blest days

   So long foretold,

   When Thou shouldst come to bring us light and grace?

   And yet I sit in darkness as of old,

   Pining to see

   Thy glory; but Thou still art far from me.


   Long since Thou camest for the light

   Of all men here;

   And still in me is nought but blackest night,

   Yet I am thine, Oh hasten to appear,

   Shine forth and bless

   My soul with vision of Thy righteousness!


   If thus in darkness ever left,

   Can I fulfil

   The works of light, while yet of light bereft?

   Or how discern in love and meekness still

   To follow Thee,

   And all the sinful works of darkness flee?


   The light of reason cannot give

   Light to my soul;

   Jesus alone can make me truly live,

   One glance of His can make my spirit whole,

   Arise and shine,

   O Jesus, on this longing heart of mine!


   Single and clear, not weak or blind,

   The eye must be,

   To which Thy glory shall and entrance find;

   For if Thy chosen ones would gaze on Thee,

   No earthly screen

   Between their souls and Thee must intervene.


   Jesus, do Thou mine eyes unseal,

   And let them grow

   Quick to discern whate'er thou dost reveal,

   So shall I be deliver'd from that woe,

   Blindly to stray

   Through hopeless night, while all around is day.
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Second Sunday in Advent

   Behold the fig-tree and all the trees; when they now shoot forth, ye
   see and know of your own selves that summer is now nigh at hand. So
   likewise ye, when ye see these things come to pass, know ye that the
   kingdom of God is nigh at hand.

   From the Gospel. [Mk 13:28-29]

   8,8,8,8,9,8,8,9

   Wach' auf, wach' auf du sich're Welt

   [47]Rist. 1651.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Awake, thou careless world, awake!

   The final day shall surely come;

   What Heaven hath fixed Time cannot shake,

   It cannot sweep away thy doom.

   Know, what the Lord Himself hath spoken

   Shall come at last and not delay;

   Though heaven and earth shall pass away,

   His steadfast word can ne'er be broken.


   Awake! He comes to judgment, wake!

   Sinners, behold His countanance

   In beauty terrible, and quake

   Condemned beneath His piercing glance.

   Lo! He to whom all power is given,

   Who sits at God's right hand on high,

   In fire and thunder draweth nigh,

   To judge all nations under heaven.


   Awake, thou careless world, awake!

   Who knows how soon our God shall please

   That suddenly that day should break?

   We fathom not such depths as these.

   Oh guard thee well from lust and greed;

   For as the bird is in the snare,

   Or ever of its foe aware,

   So comes that day with silent speed.


   The Lord in love delayeth long

   The final day, and grants us space

   To turn away from sin and wrong,

   And mourning seek His help and grace.

   He holdeth back that best of days,

   Until the righteous shall approve

   Their faith and hope, their constant love;

   So gentle us-ward are His ways!


   But ye, O faithful souls, shall see

   That morning rise in love and joy;

   Your Saviour comes to set you free,

   Your Judge shall all your bonds destroy:

   He, the true Joshua, then shall bring

   His people with a mighty hand

   Into their promised father-land,

   Where songs of victory they shall sing.


   Rejoice! The fig-tree shows her green,

   The sprining year is in its prime,

   The little flowers afresh are seen,

   We gather strength in this great time;

   The glorious summer draweth near,

   When all this body's earthly load,

   In light that morning sheds abroad,

   Shall wax as sunshine pure and clear.


   Arise, and let us day and night

   Pray in the Spirit ceaselessly,

   That we may heed our Lord aright,

   And ever in His presence be;

   Arise, and let us haste to meet

   The Bridegroom standing at the door,

   That with the angels evermore

   We too may worship at His feet.
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Third Sunday in Advent

   And it shall be said in that day, Lo, this is our God; we have waited
   for Him, and He will save us: this is the Lord; we have waited for Him,
   we will be glad and rejoice in His salvation.

   From the Lesson. [Is. 25:9]

   8,6,8,6

   Wie soll ich dich empfangen

   [48]Paul Gerhardt. 1653.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   How shall I meet Thee? How my heart

   Receive her Lord aright?

   Desire of all the earth Thou art!

   My hope, my sole delight!

   Kindle the Lamp, Thou Lord, alone,

   Half-dying in my breast,

   And make thy gracious pleasure known

   How I may greet Thee best.


   Her budding boughs and fairest palms

   Thy Zion strews around;

   And songs of praise and sweetest psalms

   From my glad heart shall sound.

   My desert soul breaks forth in flowers,

   Rejoicing in Thy fame;

   And puts forth all her sleeping powers,

   To honour Jesus' name.


   In heavy bonds I languished long,

   Thou com'st to set me free;

   The scorn of every mocking tongue--

   Thou com'st to honour me.

   A heavenly crown wilt Thou bestow,

   And gifts of priceless worth,

   That vanish not as here below,

   The fading wealth of earth.


   Nought, nought, dear Lord, had power to move

   Thee from Thy rightful place,

   Save that most strange and blessed Love

   Wherewith Thou dost embrace

   This weary world and all her woe,

   Her load of grief and ill

   And sorrow, more than man can know;--

   Thy love is deeper still.


   Oh write this promise in your hearts,

   Ye sorrowful, on whom

   Fall thickening cares, while joy departs

   And darker grows your gloom.

   Despair not, for your help is near,

   He standeth at the door

   Who best can comfort you and cheer,

   He comes, nor stayeth more.


   Nor vex your souls with care, nor grieve

   And labour longer thus,

   As though your arm could ought achieve,

   And bring Him down to us.

   He comes, He comes with ready will,

   By pity moved alone,

   To soothe our every grief and ill,

   For all to Him is known.


   Nor ye, O sinners, shrink aside,

   Afraid to see His face,

   Your darkest sins our Lord will hide

   Beneath His pitying grace.

   He comes, He comes to save from sin,

   And all its pangs assuage,

   And for the sons of God to win

   Their proper heritage.


   Why heed ye then the craft and noise,

   The fury of His foes?

   Lo, in a breath the Lord destroys

   All who His rule oppose.

   He comes, He comes, as King to reign!

   All earthly powers may band

   Against Him, yet they strive in vain,

   His might may none withstand.


   He comes to judge the earth, and ye

   Who mocked Him, feel His wrath;

   But they who loved and sought Him see

   His light o'er all their path.

   O Sun of Righteousness! arise,

   And guide us on our way

   To yon fair mansion in the skies

   Of joyous cloudless day.
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Fourth Sunday in Advent

   Rejoice in the Lord alway, and again I say, Rejoice. The Lord is at
   hand.

   From the epistle. [Philip. 4:4]

   8,8,8,8,8,8,6,8

   Macht hoch die Thuer, die Thor macht

   [49]Weiszel. 1635.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Lift up your heads, ye mighty gates,

   Behold the King of glory waits,

   The King of kings is drawing near,

   The Saviour of the world is here;

   Life and salvation doth He bring,

   Wherefore rejoice, and gladly sing

   Praise, O my God, to Thee!

   Creator, wise is Thy decree!


   The Lord is just, a helper tried,

   Mercy is ever at His side,

   His kingly crown is holiness,

   His sceptre, pity in distress,

   The end of all our woe He brings;

   Wherefore the earth is glad and sings

   Praise, O my God, to Thee!

   O Saviour, great Thy deeds shall be!


   Oh, blest the land, the city blest,

   Where Christ the ruler is confessed!

   Oh, happy hearts and happy homes

   To whom this King in triumph comes!

   The cloudless Sun of joy He is,

   Who bringeth pure delight and bliss;

   Praise, O my God, to Thee!

   Comforter, for Thy comfort free!


   Fling wide the portals of your heart,

   Make it a temple set apart

   From earthly use for Heaven's employ,

   Adorned with prayer, and love, and joy;

   So shall your Sovereign enter in,

   And new and nobler life begin.

   Praise, O my God, be Thine,

   For word, and deed, and grace divine.


   Redeemer, come! I open wide

   My heart to Thee, here, Lord, abide!

   Let me Thy inner presence feel,

   Thy grace and love in me reveal,

   Thy Holy Spirit guide us on

   Until our glorious goal is won!

   Eternal praise and fame,

   Be offered, Saviour, to Thy Name!
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Christmas Eve

   Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all
   people.

   Luke 2:10.

   8,8,8,8

   Von Himmel hoch da komm ich her

   [50]Luther

   Written for his little son Hans.
   1540

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   From Heaven above to earth I come

   To bear good news to every home;

   Glad tidings of great joy I bring

   Whereof I now will say and sing:


   To you this night is born a child

   Of Mary, chosen mother mild;

   This little child, of lowly birth,

   Shall be the joy of all your earth.


   'Tis Christ our God who far on high

   Hath heard your sad and bitter cry;

   Himself will your Salvation be,

   Himself from sin will make you free.


   He brings those blessings, long ago

   Prepared by God for all below;

   Henceforth His kingdom open stands

   To you, as to the angel bands.


   These are the tokens ye shall mark,

   The swaddling clothes and manger dark;

   There shall ye find the young child laid,

   By whom the heavens and earth were made.


   Now let us all with gladsome cheer

   Follow the shepherds, and draw near

   To see this wondrous gift of God

   Who hath His only Son bestowed.


   Give heed, my heart, lift up thine eyes!

   Who is it in yon manger lies?

   Who is this child so young and fair?

   The blessed Christ-child lieth there.


   Welcome to earth, Thou noble guest,

   Through whom e'en wicked men are blest!

   Thou com'st to share our misery,

   What can we render, Lord, to Thee!


   Ah, Lord, who hast created all,

   How hast Thou made Thee weak and small,

   That Thou must choose Thy infant bed

   Where ass and ox but lately fed!


   Were earth a thousand times as fair,

   Beset with gold and jewels rare,

   She yet were far too poor to be

   A narrow cradle, Lord, for Thee.


   For velvets soft and silken stuff

   Thou hast but hay and straw so rough,

   Whereon Thou King, so rich and great,

   As 'twere Thy heaven, art throned in state.


   Thus hath it pleased Thee to make plain

   The truth to us poor fools and vain,

   That this world's honour, wealth and might

   Are nought and worthless in Thy sight.


   Ah! dearest Jesus, Holy Child,

   Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled,

   Within my heart, that it may be

   A quiet chamber kept for Thee.


   My heart for very joy doth leap,

   My lips no more can silence keep;

   I too must sing with joyful tongue

   That sweetest ancient cradle-song-


   Glory to God in highest Heaven,

   Who unto man His Son hath given!

   While angels sing with pious mirth

   A glad New Year to all the earth.
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Xmas Day

   And the word was made flesh, and dwelt among us.

   From the Gospel. [Jn. 1:14]

   6,6,8,6

   Du wesentliches Wort

   [51]Laurenti. 1700.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   O Thou essential Word,

   Who from eternity

   Didst dwell with God, for thou wast God,

   Who art ordained to be

   The Saviour of our race;

   Welcome indeed Thou art,

   Blessed Redeemer, Fount of Grace,

   To this my longing heart!


   Come, self-existant Word,

   And speak within my heart,

   That from the soul where Thou art heard

   Thy peace may ne'er depart.

   Thou Light that lightenest all,

   Abide through faith in me,

   And let me never from Thee fall,

   And seek no guide but Thee.


   Why didst Thou leave Thy throne,

   O Jesus, what could bring

   Thee to a world where e'en Thine own

   Knew not their rightful King?

   Thy love beyond all thought

   Stronger than Death or Hell,

   And my deep woe, this wonder wrought,

   That Thou on earth dost dwell.


   Then help me, Lord, to give

   My whole heart unto Thee,

   That all my life while here I live

   One song of praise may be.

   Yes, Jesus, form anew

   This stony heart of mine,

   And let it e'en in death be true

   To Thee, for ever Thine.


   Let nought be left within

   But cometh of Thy hand;

   Root quickly out the weeds of sin,

   My cunning foe withstand.

   From Thee comes nothing ill,

   'Tis he doth sow the tares;

   Make plain my path before me still,

   And save me from his snares.


   Thou art the Life, O Lord!

   Sole Light of Life Thou art!

   Let not Thy glorious rays be poured

   In vain on my dark heart.

   Star of the East, arise!

   Drive all my clouds away,

   Guide me till earth's dim twilight dies

   Into the perfect day!
     __________________________________________________________________

St. Stephen's Day

   And Stephen, full of faith and power, did great wonders and miracles
   among the people. . . . Then they stirred up the people. . . . and
   caught him, and set up false witnesses against him.

   From the Lesson. [Acts 7:8-11]

   8,8,6,8,8,6

   Verzage nicht du Haueflein klein

   [52]Altenburg

   Gustavus Adolphus' Battle-song. 1631.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Fear not, O little flock, the foe

   Who madly seeks your overthrow,

   Dread not his rage and power:

   What though your courage sometimes faints,

   His seeming triumph o'er God's saints

   Lasts but one little hour.


   Be of good cheer; your cause belongs

   To Him who can avenge your wrongs,

   Leave it to Him our Lord.

   Though hidden yet from all our eyes,

   He sees the Gideon who shall rise

   To save us, and His word.


   As true as God's own word is true,

   Nor earth nor hell with all their crew

   Against us shall prevail.

   A jest and by-word are they grown;

   God is with us, we are His own,

   Our victory cannot fail.


   Amen, Lord Jesus, grant our prayer!

   Great Captain, now Thine arm make bare;

   Fight for us once again!

   So shall Thy saints and martyrs raise

   A mighty chorus to Thy praise,

   World without end. Amen.
     __________________________________________________________________

Saint John the Evangelist

   If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee? Follow thou
   me.

   From the Gospel. [Jn. 21:22]

   8,8,8,8,9,9,8,8,8,8

   Lebst du in mir o wahres Leben

   [53]Sinold. 1710.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   If Thou, True Life, wilt in me live,

   Consume whate'er is not of Thee;

   One look of Thine more joy can give

   Than all the world can offer me.

   O Jesus, be Thou mine for ever,

   Nought from thy love my heart can sever,

   As Thou hast promised in Thy Word;

   Oh deep the joy whereof I drink,

   Whene'er my soul in Thee can sink,

   And own her Bridegroom and her Lord!


   O Heart, that glowed with love and died,

   Kindle my soul with fire divine;

   Lord, in the heart Thou'st won, abide,

   And all in it that is not Thine

   Oh let me conquer and destroy,

   Strong in Thy love, Thou Fount of Joy,

   Nay, be Thou conqueror, Lord, in me;

   So shall I triumph o'er despair,

   O'er death itself Thy victory share,

   Thus suffer, live, and die in Thee.


   And let the fire within me move

   My heart to serve Thy members here;

   Let me their need and trials prove,

   That I may know my love sincere

   And like to Thine, Lord, pure and warm;

   For when my soul hath won that form

   Is likest to Thy holy mind,

   Then I shall love both friends and foes,

   And learn to grieve o'er others' woes,

   Like Thee, my Pattern, true and kind.


   The light and strength of Faith, oh grant,

   That I may bring forth holy fruit,

   A living branch, a blooming plant,

   Fast clinging to my vine--my root:

   Thou art my Saviour, whom I trust,

   My Rock,--I build not on the dust,--

   The ground of faith, eternal, sure.

   When hours of doubt o'ercloud my mind,

   Thy ready help then let me find,

   Thy strength my sickening spirit cure!


   And grant that Hope may never fail,

   But anchored safely on Thy cross,

   Through Thee who art mine All, prevail

   O'er every anguish, dread, and loss.

   The world may build on what decays,

   O Christ, my Sun of Hope, my gaze

   Cares not o'er lesser lights to range;

   To Thee in love I ever cleave,

   For well I know Thou ne'er wilt leave

   My soul,--Thy love can never change.


   Wouldst Thou that I should tarry here,

   I live because Thou willest it;

   Or Death should suddenly appear,

   I shall not fear him, Lord, one whit,

   If but Thy life still in me live,

   If but Thy death my strength shall give,

   When earthly life draws near its end;

   To Thee I give away my will,

   In life and death remembering still

   Thou wilt my good, O truest Friend.
     __________________________________________________________________

Innocents Day

   Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not
   enter into the kingdom of Heaven.

   Matt. 18:3

   8,8,8,8

   O liebe Seele koennt'st du werden

   [54]Gerhard Tersteegen. 1731.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Dear Soul, couldst thou become a child

   While yet on earth, meek, undefiled,

   Then God Himself were ever near,

   And Paradise around thee here.


   A child cares nought for gold or treasure,

   Nor fame nor glory yield him pleasure;

   In perfect trust, he asketh not

   If rich or poor shall be his lot.


   Little he recks of dignity,

   Nor prince nor monarch feareth he;

   Strange that a child so weak and small

   Is oft the boldest of us all!


   He hath not skill to utter lies,

   His very soul is in his eyes;

   Single his aim in all, and true,

   And apt to praise what others do.


   No questions dark his spirit vex,

   No faithless doubts his soul perplex,

   Simply from day to day he lives,

   Content with that the present gives.


   Scarce can he stand alone, far less

   Would roam abroad in loneliness;

   Fast clinging to his mother still,

   She bears and leads him at her will.


   He will not stay to pause and choose,

   His father's guidance e'er refuse,

   Thinks not of danger, fears no harm,

   Wrapt in obedience' holy calm.


   For strange concerns he careth nought;

   What others do, although were wrought

   Before his eyes the worst offence,

   Stains not his tranquil innocence.


   His dearest work, his best delight,

   Is, lying in his mother's sight,

   To gaze for ever on her face,

   And nestle in her fond embrace.


   O childhood's innocence! the voice

   Of thy deep wisdom is my choice!

   Who hath thy lore is truly wise,

   And precious in our Father's eyes.


   Spirit of childhood! loved of God,

   By Jesu's Spirit now bestowed!

   How often have I longed for thee;

   O Jesus, form Thyself in me!


   And help me to become a child

   While yet on earth, meek, undefiled,

   That I may find God always near,

   And Paradise around me here.
     __________________________________________________________________

Emmanuel
Sunday after Christmas-day.

   Behold, a Virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and
   they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with
   us.

   From the Gospel. [Matt. 1:23]

   8,8,8,8

   Wir singen dir Immanuel

   [55]Paul Gerhardt. 1650.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Thee, O Immanuel, we praise,

   The Prince of Life, and Fount of Grace,

   The Morning Star, the Heavenly Flower,

   The Virgin's Son, the Lord of Power.


   With all Thy saints, Thee, Lord, we sing,

   Praise, honour, thanks to Thee we bring,

   That Thou, O long-expected guest,

   Hast come at last to make us blest!


   Since first the world began to be,

   How many a heart hath longed for Thee;

   Long years our fathers hoped of old

   Their eyes might yet Thy Light behold:


   The prophets cried; "Ah, would He came

   To break the fetters of our shame;

   That help from Zion came to men,

   Israel were glad, and prospered then!"


   Now art Thou here; we know Thee now,

   In lowly manger liest Thou;

   A child, yet makest all things great,

   Poor, yet is earth Thy robe of state.


   From Thee alone all gladness flows,

   Who yet shalt bear such bitter woes;

   Earth's light and comfort Thou shalt be,

   Yet none shall watch to comfort Thee.


   All heavens are Thine, yet Thou didst come

   To sojourn in a stranger's home;

   Thou hangest on Thy mother's breast

   Who art the joy of spirits blest.


   Now fearless I can look on Thee,

   From sin and grief Thou sett'st me free;

   Thou bearest wrath, Thou conquerest Death,

   Fear turns to joy Thy glance beneath.


   Thou art my Head, my Lord Divine,

   I am Thy member, wholly Thine,

   And in Thy Spirit's strength would still

   Serve Thee according to Thy will.


   Thus will I sing Thy praises here

   With joyful spirit year by year;

   And they shall sound before Thy throne,

   Where time nor number more are known.
     __________________________________________________________________

The Circumcision of Christ:
A Hymn for New Year's Day.

   So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto
   wisdom.

   Psalm 90:12.

   8,8,8,8,8,8,8

   O Ewigkeit, o Ewigkeit

   [56]Wuelffer. 1648.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   And yet to thee Time hastes away,

   Like as the warhorse to the fray,

   Or swift as couriers homeward go,

   Or ship to port, or shaft from bow.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   For ever as on a perfect sphere

   End nor beginning can appear,

   Even so, Eternity, in thee

   Entrance nor exit can there be.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   A circle infinite art thou,

   Thy centre an Eternal Now,

   Never, we name thy outer bound,

   For never end therein is found.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   A little bird with fretting beak

   Might wear to nought the loftiest peak,

   Though but each thousand years it came,

   Yet thou wert then, as now, the same.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   As long as God is God, so long

   Endure the pains of sin and wrong,

   So long the joys of heaven remain;

   Oh lasting joy, Oh lasting pain!

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   O man, full oft thy thoughts should dwell

   Upon the pains of sin and hell,

   And on the glories of the pure,

   That both beyond all time endure.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   How terrible art thou in woe,

   How fair where joys for ever glow!

   God's goodness sheddeth gladness here,

   His justice there wakes bitter fear.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   They who lived poor and naked rest

   With God, for ever rich and blest,

   And love and praise the Highest Good,

   In perfect bliss and gladsome mood.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   A moment lasts all joy below,

   Whereby man sinks to endless woe,

   A moment lasts all earthly pain,

   Whereby an endless joy we gain.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   Who ponders oft on thee, is wise,

   All fleshly lusts will he despise,

   The world finds place with him no more;

   The love of vain delights is o'er.

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   Who marks thee well would say to God,

   Here judge, burn, smite me with Thy rod,

   Here let me all Thy justice bear,

   When time of grace is past, then spare!

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!


   Eternity! Eternity!

   How long art thou, Eternity!

   Lo, I, Eternity, warn thee,

   O Man, that oft thou think on me,

   The sinner's punishment and pain,

   To them who love their God, rich gain!

   Ponder, O Man, Eternity!
     __________________________________________________________________

The Adoration of the Magi.
Epiphany.

   Arise, shine, for thy light has come, and the glory of the Lord is
   risen upon thee!

   From the Lesson. [Is. 60:1]

   7,7,7,7,7,7

   Werde Licht du Stadt der Heiden

   [57]Rist. 1655.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   All ye Gentile lands awake!

   Thou, O Salem, rise and shine!

   See the day spring o'er you break,

   Heralding a morn divine,

   Telling, God hath called to mind

   Those who long in darkness pined.


   Lo! the shadows flee away,

   For our Light is come at length,

   Brighter than all earthly day,

   Source of being, life, and strength!

   Whoso on this Light would gaze

   Must forsake all evil ways.


   Ah how blindly did we stray

   Ere shone forth this glorious Sun,

   Seeking each his separate way,

   Leaving Heaven, unsought, unwon;

   All our looks were earthward bent,

   All our strength on earth was spent.


   Earthly were our thoughts and low,

   In the toils of Folly caught,

   Tossed of Satan to and fro,

   Counting goodness all for nought!

   By the world and flesh deceived,

   Heaven's true joys we disbelieved.


   Then were hidden from our eyes

   All the law and grace of God;

   Rich and poor, the fools and wise,

   Wanting light to find the road

   Leading to the heavenly life,

   Wandered lost in care and strife.


   But the glory of the Lord

   Hath arisen on us today,

   We have seen the light outpoured

   That must surely drive away

   All things that to night belong,

   All the sad earth's woe and wrong.


   Thy arising, Lord, shall fill

   All my thoughts in sorrow's hour;

   Thy arising, Lord, shall still

   All my dread of Death's dark power:

   Through my smiles and through my tears

   Still Thy light, O Lord, appears.


   Let me, Lord, in peace depart

   From this evil world to Thee;

   Where Thyself sole Brightness art,

   Thou hast kept a place for me:

   In the shining city there

   Crowns of light Thy saints shall wear.
     __________________________________________________________________

First Sunday After Epiphany.

   I beseech you, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your
   bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your
   reasonable service.

   From the Epistle. [Rom. 12:1]

   7,7,7,7

   Hoechster Priester, der du dich

   [58]Angelus. 1657.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Great High-priest, who deign'dst to be

   Once the sacrifice for me,

   Take this living heart of mine,

   Lay it on Thy holy shrine.


   Love I know accepteth nought,

   Save what Thou, O Love, hast wrought;

   Offer Thou my sacrifice,

   Else to God it cannot rise.


   Slay in me the wayward will,

   Earthly sense and passions kill,

   Tear self-love from out my heart,

   Though it cost me bitter smart.


   Kindle, Mighty Love, the pyre,

   Quick consume me in Thy fire,

   Fain were I of self bereft,

   Nought but Thee within me left.


   So may God, the Righteous, brook

   On my sacrifice to look;

   In whose sight no gift has worth

   Save a Christ-like life on earth.
     __________________________________________________________________

Second Sunday after Epiphany.

   Lift up your eyes unto the heavens, and look upon the earth beneath;
   for the heavens shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth shall wax
   old like a garment, and the people that dwell therein shall die in like
   manner; but my salvation shall be for ever, and my righteousness shall
   not be abolished.

   From the Lesson. [Is. 51:6]

   5,8,8,8,8,8,7,7,7,7

   Gott lebet noch

   [59]Zihn. 1682.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   Our God is good, in every place

   His love is known, His help is found,

   His mighty arm, and tender grace

   Bring good from ills that hem us round,

   Easier than we think can He

   Turn to joy our agony;

   Soul, remember 'mid thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   Say, shall He slumber, shall He sleep,

   Who gave the eye its power to see?

   Whall He not hear His children weep

   Who made the ear so wondrously?

   God is God; He sees and hears

   All their troubles, all their tears.

   Soul, forget not 'mid thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   He who can earth and heaven control,

   Who spreads the clouds o'er sea and land,

   Whose presence fills the mighty Whole,

   In each true heart is close at hand;

   Love Him, He will surely send

   Help and joy that never end.

   Soul, remember in thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   Scarce canst thou bear thy cross? Then fly

   To Him where only rest is sweet;

   Thy God is great, His mercy nigh,

   His strength upholds the tottering feet;

   Trust Him, for His grace is sure,

   Ever doth His truth endure;

   Soul, forget not in thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   When sins and follies long forgot

   Upon thy tortured conscience prey,

   Oh come to God, and fear Him not,

   His love shall sweep them all away;

   Pains of hell at look of His,

   Change to calm content and bliss.

   Soul, remember in thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   Those whom the thoughtless world forsakes,

   Who stand bewildered with their woe,

   God gently to his bosom takes,

   And bids them all His fulness know;

   In thy sorrows' swelling flood

   Own his hand who seeks thy good.

   Soul, forget not in thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   Let earth and heaven outworn with age,

   Sink to the chaos whence they came;

   Let angry foes against us rage,

   Let hell shoot forth his fiercest flame;

   Fear not Death, nor Satan's thrusts,

   God defends who in Him trusts;

   Soul, remember in thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.


   God liveth ever!

   Wherefore, Soul, despair thou never!

   What though thou tread with bleeding feet

   A thorny path of grief and gloom,

   Thy God will choose the way most meet

   To lead thee heavenwards, lead thee home.

   For this life's long night of sadness

   He will give thee peace and gladness;

   Soul, remember in thy pains,

   God o'er all for ever reigns.
     __________________________________________________________________

Third Sunday after Epiphany.

   For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven; and returneth
   not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud,
   that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater; so shall my
   word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me
   void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper
   in the thing whereto I sent it.

   From the Lesson. [Is. 55:10]

   8,8,8,6,4,4,8,8

   Dein Wort, O Herr, ist milder Thau

   [60]Anon.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Thy Word, O Lord, like gentle dews,

   Falls soft on hearts that pine;

   Lord, to Thy garden ne'er refuse

   This heavenly balm of Thine.

   Watered from Thee

   Let every tree

   Bud forth and blossom to Thy praise,

   And bear much fruit in after days.


   Thy word is like a flaming sword,

   A wedge that cleaveth stone;

   Keen as a fire so burns Thy Word,

   And pierceth flesh and bone.

   Oh send it forth

   O'er all the earth,

   To shatter all the might of sin,

   The darkened heart to cleanse and win.


   Thy word a wondrous guiding star,

   On pilgrim hearts doth rise,

   Leads to their Lord who dwell afar,

   And makes the simple wise.

   Let not its light

   E'er sink in night,

   But still in every spirit shine,

   That none may miss Thy light divine.
     __________________________________________________________________

Fourth Sunday After Epiphany.

   And he said unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? Then
   He arose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm.

   From the Gospel. [Matt. 8:26]

   8,6,8,6

   Hier lieg' ich, Herr, im Staube

   [61]Drewes. 1797.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   My god, lo, here before Thy face

   I cast me in the dust;

   Where is the hope of happier days,

   Where is my wonted trust?

   Where are the sunny hours I had

   Ere of Thy light bereft?

   Vanished is all that made me glad,

   My pain alone is left.


   I shrink with fear and sore alarm

   When threatening ills I see,

   As though in time of need Thine arm

   No more could shelter me;

   As though Thou couldst not see the grief

   That makes my courage quail,

   As thou Thou wouldst not send relief,

   When human helpers fail.


   Cannot Thy might avert e'en now

   What seems my certain doom,

   And still with light and succour bow

   To him who weeps in gloom?

   Art Thou not evermore the same?

   And hast not Thou revealed

   That Thou wilt be our strength, Thy Name

   Our tower of hope, our shield?


   O Father, compass me about

   With love, for I am weak;

   Forgive, forgive my sinful doubt,

   Thy pitying glance I seek;

   For torn and anguished is my heart,

   Thou seest it, my God,

   Oh soothe my conscience' bitter smart,

   Lift off my sorrows' load.


   I know that I am in Thy hands,

   Whose thoughts are peace toward me,

   That ever sure thy counsel stands,--

   Could I but build on Thee!

   I know that Thou wilt give me all

   That Thou has promised, Lord,

   Here will I cling, nor yield, nor fall,

   I live but by Thy Word.


   Though mountains crumble into dust,

   Thy covenant standeth fast;

   Who follows Thee in pious trust

   Shall reach the goal at last.

   Though strange and winding seem the way

   While yet on earth I dwell,

   In heaven my heart shall gladly say,

   Thou, God, dost all things well!


   Take courage then, my soul, nor steep

   Thy days and nights in tears,

   That soon shalt cease to mourn and weep,

   Thou dark are now thy fears.

   He comes, He comes, the Strong to save,

   He comes nor tarries more,

   His light is breaking o'er the wave,

   The clouds and storms are o'er!
     __________________________________________________________________

Fifth Sunday After Epiphany

   Oh that Thou wouldst rend the heavens, that Thou wouldst come down,
   that the mountains might flow down at Thy presence . . . To make Thy
   name known to Thine adversaries, that the nations may tremble at Thy
   presence.

   From the Lesson. [Is. 64:1-2]

   8,10,8,10,10,10

   Wach auf, du Geist der ersten Zeugen

   [62]Bogatsky. 1727.

   after [63]A. H. Franke (1663-1727).

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Awake, Thou Spirit, who of old

   Didst fire the watchmen of the Church's youth,

   Who faced the foe, unshrinking, bold,

   Who witnessed day and night the eternal truth,

   Whose voices through the world are ringing still,

   And bringing hosts to know and do Thy will!


   Oh that thy fire were kindled soon,

   That swift from land to land its flame might leap!

   Lord, give us but this priceless boon

   Of faithful servants, fit for Thee to reap

   The harvest of the soul; look down and view

   How great the harvest, yet the labourers few.


   Lord, let our earnest prayer be heard,

   The prayer Thy son Himself hath bid us pray;

   For, lo! Thy children's hearts are stirred

   In every land in this our darkening day,

   To cry for help with fervent soul to Thee;

   Oh hear us, Lord, and speak, Thus let it be!


   O haste to help ere we are lost!

   Send forth evangelist, in spirit strong,

   Armed with Thy Word, a dauntless host,

   Bold to attack the rule of ancient wrong,

   And let them all the earth for Thee reclaim,

   To be Thy kingdom, and to know Thy name.


   Would there were help within our walls!

   Oh let thy promised Spirit come again,

   Before whom every barrier falls,

   And ere the night once more shine forth as then!

   Oh rend the heavens and make Thy presence felt,

   The chains tha tbind us at Thy touch would melt!


   And let Thy Word have speedy course,

   Through every land the truth be glorified,

   Till all the heathen know its force,

   And gather to Thy churches far and wide;

   And waken Israel from her sleep, O Lord!

   Thus bless and spread the conquests of Thy Word!


   The Church's deserts paths restore,

   That stumbling blocks which long in them have lain,

   May hinder now Thy Word no more;

   Destroy false doctrine, root out notions vain,

   Set free from hirelings, let the Church and school

   Bloom as a garden 'neath Thy prospering rule!
     __________________________________________________________________

Sixth Sunday after Epiphany.

   Every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself even as he is
   pure.

   From the Epistle. [1 Jn. 3:3]

   8,8,8,8

   O reines Wesen, lautre Quelle

   [64]Freylinghausen. 1713.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Pure essence! Spotless Fount of Light,

   That fadeth never into dark!

   O Thou, whose eyes more clear and bright

   Than noonday sun are quick to mark

   Our sins; lo, bare before Thy face

   Lies all the desert of my heart,

   My once fair soul in every part

   Now stained with evil foul and base.


   Since but the pure in heart are blest

   With promised vision of their God,

   Sore fear and anguish fill my breast,

   Rememb'ring all the ways I trod;

   Mourning I see my lost estate,

   And yet in faith I dare to cry,

   Oh let my evil nature die,

   Another heart in me create!


   Enough, Lord, that my foe too well

   Hath lured me once away from Thee;

   Henceforth I know his craft how fell,

   And all his deep-laid snares I flee.

   Lord, through the Spirit whom Thy Son

   Hath bidden us in prayer to ask,

   Arm us with might that every task,

   Whate'er we do, in Thee be done.


   Unworthy am I of Thy grace,

   So deep are my transgressions, Lord,

   And yet once more I seek Thy face;

   My God, have mercy, nor reward

   My sins and follies, dark and vain;

   Reject, reject me not in wrath,

   But let Thy sunshine now beam forth,

   And quicken me with hope again.


   The Holy Spirit Thou hast given,

   The wondrous pledge of love divine,

   Who fills our hearts with joys of heaven,

   And bids us earthly joys resign;

   Oh let His seal be on my heart,

   Oh take Him nevermore away,

   Until this fleshly house decay,

   And Thou shlt bid me hence depart.


   But ah! my coward spirit droops,

   Sick with the fear that enters in

   Whene'er a soul to bondage stoops,

   And wears the shameful yoke of sin;

   Oh quicken with the strength that flows

   From out the Eternal Fount of Life,

   My soul half-fainting in the strife,

   And make an end of all my woes.


   I cling unto Thy grace alone,

   Thy steadfast oath my only rest;

   To Thee, Heart-searcher, all is known

   That lieth hidden in my breast;

   Thy joy, O Spirit, on me pour,

   Thy fervent will my sloth inspire,

   So shall I have my heart's desire,

   And serve and praise Thee evermore.
     __________________________________________________________________

Septuagesima Sunday.

   I therefore so run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, not as one that
   beateth the air.

   From the Epistle. [1 Cor. 9:26]

   7,7,7,7

   Ringe recht wenn Gottes Gnade

   [65]Winkler. 1703.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Strive when thou art called of God,

   When He draws thee by his grace,

   Strive to cast away the load

   That would clog thee in the race!


   Fight, though it may cost thy life;

   Storm the kingdom, but prevail;

   Let not Satan's fiercest strife

   Make thee, warrior, faint or quail.


   Wrestle, till through every vein

   Love and strength are glowing warm,

   Love that can the world disdain,

   Half-love will not abide the storm.


   Wrestle with strong prayers and cries,

   Think no time too much to spend,

   Though the night be passed in sighs.

   Though all day thy voice ascend.


   Hast thou won the pearl of price,

   Think not thou hast reached the goal,

   Conquered every sin and vice

   That had power to harm thy soul.


   Gaze with mingled joy and fear,

   On the refuge thou hast found;

   Know, while yet we linger here

   Perils ever hem us round.


   Art thou faithful? then oppose

   Sin and wrong with all thy might;

   Care not how the tempest blows,

   Only care to win the fight.


   Art thou faithful? Wake and watch,

   Love with all thy heart Christ's ways,

   Seek not transient ease to snatch,

   Look not for reward or praise.


   Art thou faithful? Stand apart

   From all all worldly hope and pleasure,

   Yonder fix thy hopes and heart,

   On the heaven where lies our treasure.


   Soldiers of the Cross, be strong,

   Watch and war 'mid fear and pain,

   Daily conquering woe and wrong,

   Till our King o'er earth shall reign!
     __________________________________________________________________

Sexagesima Sunday

   Let them praise the name of the Lord for His name alone is excellent;
   His glory is above the earth and heaven.

   Psalm 148:13

   7,7,7,7

   Keine Schoenheit hat die Welt

   [66]Angelus. 1657.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Nothing fair on earth I see

   But I straightway think on Thee;

   Thou art fairest in mine eyes,

   Source in whom all beauty lies!


   When the golden sun forth goes,

   And the east before him glows,

   Quickly turns this heart of mine

   To Thy heavenly form divine.


   On Thy light I think at morn,

   With the earliest break of dawn;

   Ah, what glories lie in Thee,

   Light of all Eternity!


   When I watch the moon arise

   'Mid Heaven's thousand golden eyes,

   Then I think, more glorious far

   Is the Maker of yon star.


   Or I cry in spring's sweet hours,

   When the fields are gay with flowers,

   As their varied hues I see,

   What must their Creator be!


   When along the brook I wander,

   Or beside the fountain ponder,

   Straight my thoughts take wing and mount

   Up to Thee, the purest fount!


   Sweetly sings the nightingale,

   Sweet the flute's soft plaintive tale,

   Sweeter than their richest tone,

   Is the name of Mary's Son.


   Sweetly all the air is stirred

   When the Echo's call is heard;

   But no sounds my heart rejoice

   Like to my Beloved's voice.


   Come then, fairest Lord, appear,

   Come, let me behold Thee here,

   I would see Thee face to face,

   On Thy proper light would gaze.


   Take away these veils that blind,

   Jesus, all my soul and mind;

   Henceforth ever let my heart

   See Thee truly as Thou art!
     __________________________________________________________________

Quinquagesima Sunday.

   And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of
   these is charity.

   From the Epistle. [1 Cor. 13:13]

   8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8,8

   Unter jenen grossen Guetern

   [67]Ernst Lange. 1711.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Many a gift did Christ impart,

   Noblest of them all is Love,

   Love, a balm within the heart

   That can all its pains remove;

   Love, a star most bright and pure;

   Love, a gem of priceless worth,

   Richer than man knows on earth;

   Love, like beauty, strong to lure;

   Love, like joy, makes man her thrall,

   Strong to please and conquer all.


   Love can give us all things; here

   Use and beauty cannot sever;

   Love can raise us to that sphere

   Whence the soul tends heavenwards ever;

   Though one speak with angel tongues

   Bravest words of strength and fire,

   If no love his heart inspire,

   They are but as fleeting songs;

   All his eloquence shall pass,

   As the noise of sounding brass.


   Science with her keen-eyed glance,

   All the wisdom of the world,

   Mysteries that the soul entrance,

   Faith that mighty hills had hurled

   From their ancient seats;--all this,

   Wherein man takes most his pride,

   Valueless is cast aside,

   If the spirit there we miss,

   That can work from love alone,

   Not from pride in what is known.


   Though I lavished all I have

   On the poor in charity;

   Though I shrank not from the grave,

   Or unmoved the stake could see;

   Though my body here were given

   To the all-consuming flame;

   If my mind were still the same,

   Meeter were I not for heaven,

   Till by Love my works were crowned,

   Till in Love my strength were found.


   Faith must conquer, Hope must bloom,

   As our onward path we wend,

   Else we came not through the gloom,

   But with earth they also end:

   Thou, O Love, doth stretch afar

   Through the wide eternity,

   And the soul arrayed in Thee

   Shines for ever as a star.

   Faith and hope must pass away,

   Thou, O Love, endurest aye.


   Come, thou Spirit of pure Love,

   Who dost forth from God proceed,

   Never from my heart remove,

   Let me all Thy impulse heed;

   All that seeks self-profit first,

   Rather than another's good,

   Whether foe or linked in blood,

   Let me hold such thought accurst;

   And my heart henceforward be

   Ruled, inspired, O Love, by thee!
     __________________________________________________________________

Quinquagesima Sunday.

   And Jesus said unto him, Receive thy sight; thy faith hath saved thee.
   And immediately he received his sight, and followed him, glorifying
   God.

   From the Gospel. [Luke 18:42-43]

   8,6,8,6

   Was du vor tausend Jahren

   [68]De la Mothe Foque.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855

   I am the light of the world.

   [Jn. 8:12]

   God said, let there be light: and there was light.

   [Gen. 1:3]


   My Saviour, what Thou didst of old,

   When thou wast dwelling here,

   Thou doest yet for them, who bold

   In faith to Thee draw near.

   As thou hadst pity on the blind,

   According to Thy Word,

   Thou sufferedst me Thy grace to find,

   Thy Light hast on me poured.


   Mourning I sat beside the way,

   In sightless gloom apart,

   And sadness heavy on me lay,

   And longing gnawed my heart;

   I heard the music of the psalms

   Thy people sang to Thee,

   I felt the waving of their palms,

   And yet I could not see.


   My pain grew more than I could bear,

   Too keen my grief became,

   Then I took heart in my despair

   To call upon Thy name;

   "O Son of David, save and heal,

   As Thou so oft hast done!

   O dearest Jesus, let me feel

   My load of darkness gone."


   And ever weeping as I spoke

   With bitter prayers and sighs,

   My stony heart grew soft and broke,

   More earnest yet my cries.

   A sudden answer stilled my fear,

   For it was said to me,

   "O poor blind man, be of good cheer,

   Rejoice, He calleth thee."


   I felt, Lord, that Thou stoodest still,

   Groping Thy feet I sought,

   From off me fell my old self-will,

   A change came o'er my thought.

   Thou saidst, "What is it thou wouldst have?"

   "Lord, that I might have sight;

   To see Thy countenance I crave:"

   "So be it, have thou Light."


   And words of Thine can never fail,

   My fears are past and o'er;

   My soul is glad with light, the veil

   Is on my heart no more.

   Thou blessest me, and forth I fare

   Free from my old discrace,

   And follow on with joy where'er

   Thy footsteps, Lord, I trace.
     __________________________________________________________________

Ash Wednesday.

   Gather the people . . and let the priests, the ministers of the Lord,
   weep between the porch and the alter, and let them say, Spare Thy
   people, O Lord.

   From the Passage for the Epistle. [Joel 2:17]

   7,5,7,5,3,4,7,7

   Straf mich nicht in deinem Zorn

   [69]Albinus. 1652.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Not in anger smite us, Lord,

   Spare Thy people, spare!

   If Thou mete us due reward

   We must all despair.

   Let the flood

   Of Jesus' blood

   Quench the flaming of Thy wrath,

   That our sin enkindled hath.


   Father! Thou hast patience long

   With the sick and weak;

   Heal us, make us brave and strong,

   Words of comfort speak.

   Touch my soul,

   And make me whole

   With Thy healing precious balm;

   Ward off all would bring me harm.


   Weary am I, Lord, and worn

   With my ceaseless pain;

   Sad the heart that night and morn

   Sighs for help in vain.

   Wilt Thou yet

   My soul forget,

   Waiting anxiously for Thee

   In the cave of misery?


   Hence, ye foes! God hears my prayer

   From His holy place;

   Once again with hope I dare

   Come before His face.

   Satan flee,

   Hell touch not me;

   God hath given me power o'er all,

   Who once mocked and sought my fall.
     __________________________________________________________________

First Sunday in Lent.

   Then was Jesus led up of the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted
   of the devil. And he fasted forty days and forty nights.

   From the Gospel. [Matt. 4:1-2]

   10,10,10,10

   Bin ich allein ein Fremdling auf

   [70]Raisner. 1678.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Am I a stranger here, on earth alone,

   When shall my weary days be past and gone?

   When shall I find some respite, some relief

   From this unsleeping pain, this haunting grief?


   The joyful sun another morning brings,

   I only wake to see care's piercing stings;

   The soft moon comes with silent night and sleep,

   And bringeth nought to me but time to weep.


   My heart and conscience sorely wounded lie,

   Struck by the arrows of Thy wrath, Most High!

   From morn to eventide where'er I flee,

   I find no hiding-place, great God, from Thee!


   O Lord, be not so strict to mark my crimes!

   Great God, dost thou remember yet those times

   Of foolish thoughtlessness, when blind and young

   My heart to vain delights of earth still clung?


   Wilt Thou then always bear my sins in mind?

   What offering, what atonement can I find!

   Nought have I of mine own but sin and wrong,

   But love and mercy, Lord, to Thee belong!


   Oh therefore leave me not the wretched prey

   Of those who seek to take my life away!

   Yet though with streaming eyes to Thee I cry,

   No answering voice comes from Thy throne on high.


   Vain are my tears and prayers, vain all my woe,

   While Thou dost fight against me as a foe;

   The zeal of Thy just anger and Thy might

   Have plunged my soul in blackest depths of night.


   I sit alone; with tears I bathe my cheeks,

   With bitter sighs and groans my spirit seeks,

   For Him, who veils behind the clouds His face,

   And hears not, as of old in happier days.


   O that I had a dove's swift wings! I'd fly

   Away to some far mountain lone and high,--

   Yet could I not escape His mighty hand

   Before whom all things bare and open stand.


   Nay, rather let me suffer all His will,

   Though His fierce anger beat upon me still,

   A willing heart and patient mind, O God!

   I bring to Thy sever but righteous rod.


   Much have I sinned, I perish utterly

   If my misdeeds be all avenged of Thee;

   Yet, Lord of Hosts, doth not thy Word proclaim,

   The Merciful is Thy most glorious name!
     __________________________________________________________________

Second Sunday in Lent.

   And the disciples said, Send her away, for she crieth after us; . . .
   But He said, Great is thy faith, be it unto thee even as thou wilt.

   From the Gospel. [Matt. 15:23-28]

   12,4,4,12,6,6,10,6

   Ich lass dich nicht, du Huelf' in

   [71]Wolfgang C. Deszler. 1692.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   I will not let Thee go; Thou Help in time of need!

   Heap ill on ill

   I trust Thee still,

   E'en when it seems that thou wouldst slay indeed!

   Do as Thou wilt with me,

   I yet will cling to Thee,

   Hide Thou Thy face, yet, Help in time of need,

   I will not let Thee go!


   I will not let Thee go; should I forsake my bliss?

   No, Lord, Thou'rt mine,

   And I am Thine,

   Thee will I hold when all things else I miss.

   Though dark and sad the night,

   Joy cometh with Thy light,

   O Thou my Sun; should I forsake my bliss?

   I will not let Thee go!


   I will not let Thee go, my God, my Life, my Lord!

   Not Death can tear

   Me from His care,

   Who for my sake His soul in death outpoured.

   Thou diedst for love to me,

   I say in love to Thee,

   E'en when my heart shall break, my God, my Life, my Lord,

   I will not let Thee go!
     __________________________________________________________________

Third Sunday in Lent.

   Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall
   give thee light.--

   From the Epistle. [Eph. 5:14]

   8,6,8,6,8,8,10,10

   Erwach, o Mensch, erwache

   [72]Crasselius. 1697.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Awake, O man, and from thee shake

   This heavy sleep of sin!

   Soon shall the Highest vengeance take,

   Soon shall His wrath begin

   To smite the wretched sinner home;

   In awful terrors He shall come,

   To mete to all on earth their due reward,

   Only the righteous spares our angry Lord.


   Come then, ye sinners, great and small,

   Weeping and mourning sore,

   Low down before his footstool fall,

   And vow to sin no more.

   In faith and godliness array

   Your souls against that final day,

   So shall ye 'scape His wrath, and blessed die,

   Heirs of the kingdom with your Lord on high.


   Oh lay to heart this wondrous thought,

   Through what sore agony

   And death was your redemption bought,

   And to your Saviour flee

   Ere yet to late; the world disown,

   And fix your love on Christ alone,

   And do His will; for at the final doom,

   Those who dishonoured Him shall wrath consume.


   Turn Thou us, and we shall be turned,

   Thou broughtest back of old

   Thy straying people, when they yearned

   After their proper fold;

   Even so forgive what we have done,

   Accept us in Thy blessed Son,

   And let Thy Holy Spirit be our guide,

   That we may spread Thy praises far and wide!
     __________________________________________________________________

Fourth Sunday in Lent.

   Grant, we beseech Thee, Almighty God, that we, who for our evil deeds
   do worthily deserve to be punished, by the comfort of Thy grace may
   mercifully be relieved; through our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ.

   From the Collect.

   10,10,10,10

   Hier lieg ich nun mein Gott zu deinen

   [73]Anon.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Here, O my God, I cast me at Thy feet,

   Ready to suffer what Thou thinkest meet;

   Yet look on me, great God, with pitying eyes,

   Reward me not for mine iniquities!


   To oft, alas! my heart hath loved to stray

   Downward along Sin's broad and easy way;

   And worldly pride and carnal lusts most foul

   Were shameless cherished in my inmost soul.


   Thy Majesty have I offended, Lord,

   And set at nought Thy law, Thy holy Word;

   I had not learnt Thy righteous wrath to dread,

   Nor saw the vengeance gathering o'er my head.


   O wretched man, what evil have I wrought!

   Who may these heavy chains of sin unbind?

   Can man nor creature show me any place,

   Where I may flee and hide me from God's face!


   Nay, I must flee to God Himself, from whom

   Our life and help, our hope and safety come;

   What all the world must unaccomplished leave,

   Thou, for Thou art Almighty, canst achieve.


   Think on the covenant Thou hast never broken,

   Think on the steadfast oath Thyself hast spoken,

   Know that I am a God, Thy promise saith,

   Who hath no pleasure in a sinner's death.


   Then let the arms of love be round me thrown,

   Have pity on me, hear my bitter moan,

   Call back Thy sheep, that wandering far astray,

   Was lost in sin, nor knew its homeward way.


   Grant me to rule my inner life aright,

   And act and speak as ever in Thy sight,

   A friend to all true virtue, but a foe

   To all Thou hatest, sins and follies low.


   Thou Merciful! what thanks and praise shall be

   For Thy great goodness offered unto Thee,

   As is most meet, while here my days I spend,

   And yonder in the world that shall not end!
     __________________________________________________________________

Fifth Sunday in Lent.

   Out of the depths have I called unto Thee, O Lord; Lord, hear my voice.
   If Thou, Lord, wilt be extreme to mark what is done amiss, O Lord, who
   may abide it?--

   Ps. 130:1,3.

   8,6,8,6,8,8,9

   Aus tiefer Noth schrei ich zu dir

   [74]Luther. 1524.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Out of the depths I cry to thee,

   Lord God! oh hear my prayer!

   Incline a gracious ear to me,

   And bid me not despair:

   If Thou rememberest each misdeed,

   If each should have its righteous meed,

   Lord, who shall stand before Thee?


   'Tis through Thy love alone we gain

   The pardon of our sin;

   The strictest life is but in vain,

   Our works can nothing win,

   That none should boast himself of aught,

   But own in fear Thy grace hath wrought

   What in him seemeth righteous.


   Wherefore my hope is in the Lord,

   My works I count but dust,

   I build not there, but on His word,

   And in His goodness trust.

   Up to His care myself I yield,

   He is my tower, my rock, my shield,

   And for His help I tarry.


   And though it linger till the night,

   And round again till morn,

   My heart shall ne'er mistrust Thy might,

   Nor count itself forlorn.

   Do thus, O ye of Israel's seed,

   Ye of the Spirit born indeed,

   Wait for your God's appearing.


   Though great our sins and sore our wounds,

   And deep and dark our fall,

   His helping mercy hath no bounds,

   His love surpasseth all.

   Our trusty loving Shepherd He,

   Who shall at last set Israel free

   From all their sin and sorrow.
     __________________________________________________________________

Palm Sunday.

   And the multitude that went before, and that followed, cried, saying,
   Hosanna to the Son of David; Blessed is He that cometh in the name of
   the Lord; Hosanna in the highest.

   Matt. 21:9.

   10,8,6,10,10,10

   Hosianna! Davids Sohn

   [75]Schmolck. 1704.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Hosanna to the Son of David! Raise

   Triumphal arches to His praise,

   For Him prepare a throne

   Who comes at last to Zion--to His own!

   Strew palms around, make plain and straight the way

   For Him who His triumphal entry holds today!


   Hosanna! Welcome above all Thou art!

   Make ready each to lay his heart

   Low down before His feet!

   Come, let us hasten forth our Lord to meet,

   And bid him enter in Zion's gates,

   Where thousand-voiced welcome on His coming waits.


   Hosanna! Prince of Peace and Lord of Might!

   We hail Thee Conqueror in the fight!

   All Thou with toil hast won,

   Shall be our booty when the battle's done.

   Thy right hand ever hath the rule and sway,

   Thy kingdom standeth fast when all things else decay.


   Hosanna! best-beloved and noble Guest!

   Who makest us by thy behest

   Heirs of Thy realm with Thee.

   Oh let us therefore never weary be

   To stand and serve before Thy righteous throne,

   We know no king but Thee, rule Thou o'er us alone!


   Hosanna! Come, the time draws on apace,

   We long Thy mercy to embrace,

   This servant's form can ne'er

   Conceal the majesty Thy acts declare:

   Too well art Thou here in Thy Zion known,

   Who art the Son of God, and yet art David's Son.


   Hosanna! Lord, be Thou our help and friend,

   Thy aid to us in mercy send,

   That each may bring his soul

   An offering unto Thee, unstained and whole.

   Thou wilt have none for Thy disciples, Lord,

   But those who truly keep, not only hear Thy word.


   Hosanna! Let us in Thy footsteps tread,

   Not that sad Mount of Olives dread

   Where we must weep and watch,

   Until the far-off song of joy we catch

   From Heaven our Bethphage, where we shall sing

   Hosanna in the highest to our God and King!


   Hosanna! Let us sound it far and wide!

   Enter Thou in and here abide,

   Thou Blessed of the Lord!

   Why standest Thou without, why roam'st abroad!

   Hosanna! Make Thy home with us for ever!

   Thou comest, Lord! and nought us from Thy love shall sever.


   Hallelujah.
     __________________________________________________________________

Monday in Passion Week.

   And when He was come near, He beheld the city and wept over it.

   Luke 19:14

   8,6,8,10,4,10,12,10

   Du weinest fuer Jerusalem

   [76]Heermann. 1630.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Thou weepest o'er Jerusalem,

   Lord Jesus, bitter tears;

   But deepest comfort lies in them

   For us, whose sins have filled our soul with tears:

   Since they that tell,

   When sinners turn to Thee Thou lov'st it well,

   And surely wilt efface, of Thy unbounded grace,

   All the misdeeds that on our conscience dwell.


   When God's just wrath and anger burn

   Against me for my sin,

   To these sad tears of Thine I turn,

   And watching them fresh hope and courage win;

   For God doth prize

   These drops so greatly, that before His eyes

   Who sprinkles o'er his soul with them is clean and whole,

   And from his sorrows' depth new joy shall rise.


   Earth is the home of tears and woe,

   Where we must often weep,

   Fighting the world our mighty foe,

   Whose enmity to Thee doth never sleep;

   My heart is torn

   Afresh each day by her fierce rage and scorn,

   But in my saddest hours, I think upon those showers

   That tell how Thou hast all our sorrows borne.


   Thou countest up my tears and sighs,

   E'en were they numberless;

   Not one is hidden from thy eyes,

   Thou ne'er forgettest me in my distress,

   But when they rain

   Before Thee, Thou dost quickly turn again,

   Hast pity on my woe, and makest me to know

   What sweetest joy lies hid in sorest pain.


   We sow in tears; but let us keep

   Our faith in God, and trust Him still,

   Yonder our harvest we shall reap,

   Where gladness every heart and voice shall fill.

   Such joy is there

   No mortal tongue its glory can declare,

   A joy that shall endure, unchanging deep and pure,

   That shall be ours, if here the cross we bear.


   O Christ, I thank Thee for Thy tears;

   Those tears have won for me

   That I shall wear, through endless years,

   A crown of joy before my God and Thee.

   All weeping o'er,

   Up to Thy chosen saints I once shall soar,

   And there Thy pity praise, in more befitting lays,

   Thou glory of Thy Church, for evermore.

   For these things I weep, Mine eye runneth down with water, because the
   comfort that should relieve my soul, is for ever from me; my children
   are desolate because the enemy prevailed.

   Lament. 1:16
     __________________________________________________________________

Tuesday in Passion Week.

   By the which will we are sanctified, through the offering of the body
   of Jesus Christ once for all.

   Heb. 10:10

   7,7,7,7

   Jesu deine tiefen Wunden

   [77]Heermann. 1644.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Lord! Thy death and passion give

   Strength and comfort at my need,

   Every hour while here I live

   On Thy love my soul shall feed.

   Doth some evil thought upstart?

   Lo, Thy cross defends my heart,

   Shows the peril, and I shrink

   Back from loitering on the brink.


   Doth my carnal nature yearn

   After wanton joys? again

   Quickly to Thy cross I turn,

   And her voice is heard in vain.

   Cometh strong temptation's hour,

   When my foe puts forth his power?

   Sheltered by this holy shield,

   Soon I drive him from the field.


   Would the world my steps entice

   To yon wide and level road,

   Filled with mirth and pleasant vice?

   Lord, I think upon the load

   Thou didst once for me endure,

   And I fly all thoughts impure;

   Thinking on Thy bitter pains,

   Hushed in prayer my heart remains.


   Yes, Thy cross hath power to heal

   All the wounds of sin and strife,

   Lost in Thee my heart doth feel

   Sudden warmth and nobler life.

   In my saddest, darkest grief,

   Let Thy sweetness bring relief,

   Thou who camest but to save,

   Thou who fearedst not the grave!


   Lord, in Thee I place my trust,

   Thou art my defence and tower;

   Death Thou treadest in the dust,

   O'er my soul he hath no power.

   That I may have part in Thee,

   Help and save and comfort me,

   Give me of Thy grace and might,

   Resurrection, life and light.


   Fount of Good, within me dwell,

   For the peace Thy presence sheds

   Keeps us safe in conflict fell,

   Charms the pain from dying beds.

   Hide me close within Thine arm,

   Where no foe can hurt or harm;

   Whoso, Lord, in Thee doth rest,

   He hath conquered, he is blest.
     __________________________________________________________________

Wednesday in Passion Week.

   Now once in the end of the world hath He appeared, to put away sin by
   the sacrifice of Himself.

   From the Epistle. [Heb. 9:26]

   6,6,8,4,8,7,6

   Wenn meine Suend' mich kraenken

   [78]Gesenius. 1646.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   When sorrow and remorse

   Prey at my heart, to Thee

   I look, who on the holy cross

   Was slain for me.

   Ah Lord, Thy precious blood was spilt

   For me, O most unworthy,

   To take away my guilt.


   Oh wonder past belief!

   Behold the Master spares

   His servants, and sore pain and grief

   For them He bears.

   God stoopeth from His throne on high,

   For me His guilty creature,

   He deigns as man to die.


   Thou countless were the sins

   That weighed me to the dust,

   Christ's death for me the favour wins

   Of God most just.

   His precious blood my debts hath paid,

   Of hell and all its torments

   I am no more afraid.


   My heart is filled with ruth,

   Thinking on all Thou'st borne,

   How mighty love and tender truth

   Were crowned with thorn.

   In songs of thanks I'll spend my breath

   For Thy sad cry, Thy sufferings,

   Thy wrongs, Thy guiltless death.


   Thy Passion, Lord, inspires

   My spirit day by day,

   With strength from all low dark desires

   To flee away.

   This thought I fain would cherish most,

   What pain my soul's redemption

   To Thee, O Saviour, cost.


   Whate'er the burden be,

   The cross upon me laid,

   Or want or shame, I look to Thee,

   Be Thou mine aid.

   Give patience, give me strength to take

   Thee for my bright example,

   And all the world forsake.


   Let me to others do,

   As thou hast done to me,

   Love them with love unfeigned and true,

   Their servant be

   Of willing heart, nor seek my own,

   But as Thou, Lord, hast helped us,

   From purest love alone.


   And let Thy sorrows cheer

   My soul when I depart;

   Give strength to cast away all fear,

   And tell my heart

   That since my trust is in Thy grace,

   Thou wilt accept me yonder,

   Where I shall see Thy face.
     __________________________________________________________________

Thursday in Passion Week

   Pilate therefore, willing to release Jesus, spake again to them. But
   they cried saying, Crucify Him, crucify Him. And he said unto them the
   third time, Why, what evil hath He done?

   From the Gospel. [Lk. 23:20-22]

   10,10,10,4

   Herzliebster Jesu, was hast du

   [79]Heermann. 1630.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Alas dear Lord, what evil hast Thou done,

   That such sharp sentence from Thy judge hath won?

   What are His crimes, and what the guilt, oh, tell

   Wherein He fell!


   They scourge Him, crown Him with a crown of thorn,

   They smite His face with bitter mock and scorn,

   They give Him gall to drink, they pierce His side,

   The Crucified!


   From head to foot was there no spot in me

   Unscarred by sin, from taint of evil free;

   My sins had weighed me down that I should dwell

   For aye in Hell.


   Whence come these sorrows, whence this cruel woe?

   It was my sins that struck the fatal blow;

   Mine were the wrath and anguish, dearest Lord,

   On Thee outpoured.


   What strangest punishment! The Shepherd good

   For erring sheep here pours His own heart's blood,

   The servants' debts are on the Master laid,

   Who all hath paid.


   Oh wondrous love, love that no measure knows,

   That brought Thee, Christ, to drink this cup of woes!

   Full of the world's vain joys and hopes was I,

   While Thou must die!


   O mighty King! mighty beyond all time!

   Fain would I sound Thy praise through every clime!

   A gift were meet for Thee, my anxious thought

   Long time hath sought.


   But human wisdom searches, Lord, in vain

   To find aught like Thy pity, or Thy pain.

   How shall my works, though toiling day and night,

   Thy love requite?


   Yet have I somewhat that my Lord can please;

   I can renounce sweet sins and selfish ease,

   And quinch the unhallowed fires that back would lure

   To thoughts impure.


   But since my strength, alas, will ne'er prevail

   My strong desires upon the cross to nail,

   Oh let Thy Spirit rule my heart, who leads

   To all good deeds.


   Then shall Thy mercy fill my every thought,

   I love Thee so, the world to me is nought;

   My sole endeavour, Lord, is to fulfil

   Thy holy will.


   My all I risk to magnify Thy name,

   No cross shall daunt me, no reproach or shame;

   Man's fiercest threats I will not lay to heart,

   Nor Death's worst smart.


   In truth my sacrifice is nothing worth,

   Yet Thou in mercy wilt not cast it forth;

   Thou'lt put me not to shame but for love's sake

   My offering take.


   Lord Jesus, once on high amongst Thine own,

   Shall I stand crowned with light before Thy throne!

   Where sweetest hymns are ever ringing round,

   My voice shall sound.
     __________________________________________________________________

Good Friday. Morning.

   He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our
   iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon Him, and with His
   stripes we are healed.

   From the Lesson. [Is. 53:5]

   6,6,8,6

   O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden

   [80]Paul Gerhardt. 1659.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Ah wounded Head! Must Thou

   Endure such shame and scorn!

   The blood is trickling from Thy brow

   Pierced by the crown of thorn.

   Thou who wast crowned on high

   With light and majesty,

   In deep dishonour here must die,

   Yet here I welcome Thee!


   Thou noble countenance!

   All earthly lights are pale

   Before the brightness of that glance,

   At which a world shall quail.

   How is it quenched and gone!

   Those gracious eyes how dim!

   Whence grew that cheek so pale and wan?

   Who dared to scoff at Him?


   All lovely hues of life,

   That glowed on lip and cheek,

   Have vanished in that awful strife;

   The Mighty One is weak.

   Pale Death has won the day,

   He triumphs in this hour

   When Strength and Beauty fade away,

   And yield them to his power.


   Ah Lord, Thy woes belong,

   Thy cruel pains, to me,

   The burden of my sin and wrong

   Hath all been laid on Thee.

   Behold me where I kneel,

   Wrath were my rightful lot,

   One glance of love yet let me feel!

   Redeemer, spurn me not!


   My Guardian, own me Thine;

   My Shepherd, bear me home:

   O Fount of mercy, Source Divine,

   From Thee what blessings come!

   How oft Thy mouth has fed

   My soul with angels' food,

   How oft Thy Spirit o'er me shed

   His stores of Heavenly good!


   Ah would that I could share

   Thy cross, Thy bitter woes!

   All true delight lies hidden there,

   Thence all true comfort flows.

   Ah well were it for me

   That I could end my strife,

   And die upon the cross with Thee,

   Who art my Life of life!


   My soul is all o'erfraught,

   O Jesus, dearest Friend,

   With thankful love to Him who sought

   Such woe for such an end.

   Grant me as true a faith,

   As Thou art true to me,

   That so the icy sleep of death

   Be but a rest in Thee.


   Yes, when I must depart,

   Depart Thou not from me;

   When Death is creeping to my heart,

   Bear Thou mine agony.

   When faith and courage sink,

   O'erwhelmed with dread dismay,

   Come Thou who ne'er from pain didst shrink,

   And chase my fears away.


   Come to me ere I die,

   My comfort and my shield;

   Then gazing on Thy cross can I

   Calmly my spirit yield.

   On Thee, when life is past,

   My darkening eyes shall dwell,

   My heart in faith shall hold Thee fast;

   Who dieth thus, dies well.
     __________________________________________________________________

Good Friday. Evening.

   But God commended His love toward us, in that, while we were yet
   sinners, Christ died for us.

   Rom 5:8

   8,8,8,8

   O du Liebe meiner Liebe

   [81]Angelus. 1657.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Thou Holiest Love, whom most I love,

   Who art my longed-for only bliss,

   Whom tenderest pity erst did move

   To fathom woe and death's abyss

   Who once didst suffer for my good,

   And die my guilty debts to pay,

   Thou Lamb of God, whose precious blood

   Can take a world's misdeeds away;


   Thou Love, who didst such anguish bear

   Upon the Mount of agony,

   And yet with ceaseless watchful care

   Dost yearn o'er us so tenderly;

   Thou camest not Thy will to seek,

   But all Thy Father's will obey,

   Bearing the cross in patience meek,

   That Thou might'st take our curse away.


   O Love, who with unflinching heart

   Enduredst all disgrace and shame;

   O Love, who mid the keenest smart

   Of dying pangs wert still the same;

   Who didst Thy changeless virtue prove

   E'en with Thy latest parting breath,

   And spakest words of gentlest love

   When soul and body sank in death;


   O Love, through sorrows manifold

   Hast Thou betrothed me as a bride,

   By ceaseless gifts, by love untold,

   Hast bound me ever to Thy side;

   Oh let the weary ache, the smart,

   Of life's long tale of pain and loss,

   Be gently stilled within my heart

   At thought of Thee, and of Thy cross!


   O Love, who dying thus for me,

   Hast won me an eternal good

   Through sorest anguish on the tree,

   I ever think upon Thy blood;

   I ever thank Thy sacred wounds,

   Thou wounded Love, Thou Holiest,

   But most when life is near its bounds,

   And in Thy bosom safe I rest.


   O Love, who unto death hast grieved

   For this cold heart, unworthy Thine,

   Whom once the chill dark grave received,

   I thank Thee for that grief divine;

   I give Thee thanks that Thou didst die

   To win eternal life for me,

   To bring salvation from on high;

   Oh draw me up through love to Thee!
     __________________________________________________________________

Easter Even.

   And Joseph wrapped the body in a clean linen cloth, and laid it in his
   own new tomb, which he had hewn out in the rock.

   From the Gospel. [Matt. 27:59-60]

   6,6,11,6,6,11

   Su ruhest du, o meine Ruh

   [82]Salomo Franck (1659-1725). 1711.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Rest of the weary! Thou

   Thyself art resting now,

   Where lowly in Thy sepulchre Thou liest:

   From out her deathly sleep

   My soul doth start, to weep

   So sad a wonder, that Thou Saviour diest!


   Thy bitter anguish o'er,

   To this dark tomb they bore

   Thee, Life of Life--Thee, Lord of all creation!

   The hollow rocky cave

   Must serve Thee for a grave,

   Who wast Thyself the Rock of our Salvation!


   O Prince of Life! I know

   That when I too lie low,

   Thou wilt at last my soul from death awaken;

   And thus I will not shrink

   From the grave's awful brink;

   The heart that trusts in Thee shall ne'er be shaken.


   To me the darksome tomb

   Is but a narrow room,

   Where I may rest in peace from sorrow free;

   Thy death shall give me power

   To cry in that dark hour,

   O Death, O Grave, where is your victory?


   The grave can nought destroy,

   Only the flesh can die,

   And e'en the body triumphs o'er decay:

   Clothed by Thy wondrous might

   In robes of dazzling light,

   This flesh shall burst the grave at that last Day.


   My Jesus, day by day,

   Help me to watch and pray,

   Beside the tomb where in my heart Thou'rt laid.

   Thy bitter death shall be

   My constant memory,

   My guide at last into Death's awful shade.
     __________________________________________________________________

Easter Day. Morning.

   Christ being raised from the dead dieth no more: death hath no more
   dominion over Him.

   From the Anthem [Rom. 6:9]

   7,7,7,7,7,7,4

   Christ lag in Todesbanden

   [83]Luther. 1524.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   In the bonds of Death He lay,

   Who for our offense was slain,

   But the Lord is risen today,

   Christ hath brought us life again.

   Wherefore let us all rejoice,

   Singing loud with a cheerful voice

   Hallelujah!


   Of the sons of men was none

   Who could break the bonds of Death,

   Sin this mischief dire had done,

   Innocent was none on earth;

   Wherefore Death grew strong and bold,

   Death would all men captive hold.

   Hallelujah!


   Jesus Christ, God's only Son,

   Came at last our foe to smite,

   All our sins away hath done,

   Done away Death's power and right,

   Only the form of Death is left,

   Of his sting he is bereft;

   Hallelujah.


   'Twas a wondrous war, I trow,

   When Life and Death together fought;

   But life hath triumphed o'er his foe,

   Death is mocked and set at nought;

   Yea, 'tis as the Scripture saith,

   Christ through death has conquered Death.

   Hallelujah.


   Now our Paschal Lamb is He,

   And by Him alone we live,

   Who to death upon the tree,

   For our sake Himself did give.

   Faith His blood strikes on our door,

   Death dares never harm us more.

   Hallelujah.


   On this day most blest of days,

   Let us keep high festival,

   For our God hath showed His grace,

   And our Sun hath risen on us all,

   And our hearts rejoice to see

   Sin and night before Him flee.

   Hallelujah.


   To the supper of the Lord,

   Gladly we will come today,

   The word of peace is now restored,

   The old leaven is put away;

   Christ will be our food alone,

   Faith no life but His doth own.

   Hallelujah.
     __________________________________________________________________

Easter Day. Evening.

   If ye then be risen with Christ, seek those things which are above,
   where Christ sitteth on the right hand of God.

   From the Epistle. [Col. 3:1]

   7,7,7,7,10,10

   Verklaertes Haupt nun lebst du

   [84]Gerhard Tersteegen. 1731.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   O Glorious Head, Thou livest now!

   Let us Thy members share Thy life;

   Canst Thou behold their need, nor bow

   To raise Thy children from the strife

   With self and sin, with death and dark distress,

   That they may live to Thee in holiness?


   Earth knows Thee not, but evermore

   Thou liv'st in Paradise, in peace;

   Oh fain my soul would thither soar,

   Oh let me from the creatures cease:

   Dead to the world, but to Thy spirit known,

   I live to Thee, O Prince of life, alone.


   Break through my bonds whate'er it cost,

   What is not Thine within me slay,

   Give me the lot I covet most,

   To rise as Thou hast risen today.

   I nought can do, a slave to death I pine,

   Work Thou in me, O Power and Life Divine!


   Work Thou in me, and heavenward guide

   My thoughts and wishes, that my heart

   Waver no more nor turn aside,

   But fix for ever where Thou art.

   Thou art not far from us; who loves Thee well,

   While yet on earth in heaven with Thee may dwell.
     __________________________________________________________________

Monday in Easter Week.

   And they told what things were done in the way, and how he was known to
   them in breaking of bread. And as they thus spake, Jesus Himself stood
   in the midst of them, and saith unto them, Peace be unto you.

   From the Gospel. [Lk 24:35-36]

   8,6,8,6

   Willkommen Held im Streite

   [85]Schmolck. 1712.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Welcome Thou victor in the strife,

   Now welcome from the cave!

   Today we triumph in Thy life

   Around Thine empty grave.


   Our enemy is put to shame,

   His short-lived triumph o'er;

   Our God is with us, we exclaim,

   We fear our foe no more.


   The dwellings of the just resound

   With songs of victory;

   For in their midst, Lord, Thou art found,

   And bringest peace with Thee.


   O share with us the spoils, we pray,

   Thou diedst to achieve;

   We meet within Thy house today

   Our portion to receive:


   And let Thy conquering banner wave

   O'er hearts Thou makest free,

   And point the path that from the grave

   Leads heavenward up to Thee.


   We bury all our sin and crime

   Deep in our Saviour's tomb,

   And seek the treasure there, that time

   Nor change can e'er consume.


   We die with Thee; oh let us live

   Henceforth to Thee aright;

   The blessings Thou hast died to give,

   Be daily in our sight.


   Fearless we lay us in the tomb,

   And sleep the night away,

   If Thou art there to break the gloom,

   And call us back to day.


   Death hurts us not; his power is gone,

   And pointless all his darts;

   Now hath God's favour on us shone,

   And joy fills all our hearts.
     __________________________________________________________________

Tuesday in Easter Week.

   I know that my Redeemer liveth . . and though after my skin worms
   destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.

   Job 19:25,26

   For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put
   on immortality.

   From the Lesson. [1 Cor. 15:53]

   7,7,7,7,7,7

   Jesus meine Zuversicht

   [86]Louisa Henrietta, Electress of Brandenburgh. 1653.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Jesus my Redeemer lives,

   Christ my trust is dead no more;

   In the strength this knowledge gives

   Shall not all my tears be o'er,

   Though the night of Death be fraught

   Still with many an anxious thought?


   Jesus my Redeemer lives,

   And His life I once shall see;

   Bright the hope this promise gives,

   Where He is I too shall be.

   Shall I fear then? Can the Head

   Rise and leave the members dead?


   Close to Him my soul is bound

   In the bonds of Hope enclasped;

   Faith's strong hand this hold hath found,

   And the Rock hath firmly grasped:

   And no ban of death can part

   From our Lord the trusting heart.


   I shall see Him with these eyes,

   Him whom I shall surely know;

   Nort another shall I rise,

   With His love this heart shall glow;

   Only there shall disappear

   Weakness in and round me here.


   Ye who suffer, sigh, and moan,

   Fresh and glorious there shall reign;

   Earthly here the seed is sown,

   Heavenly it shall rise again;

   Natural here the death we die,

   Spiritual our life on high.


   Body, be thou of good cheer,

   In thy Saviour's care rejoice,

   Give not place to gloom and fear,

   Dead, thou yet shalt know His voice,

   When the final trump is heard,

   And the deaf cold grave is stirred.


   Laugh to scorn then death and hell,

   Laugh to scorn the gloomy grave;

   Caught into the air to dwell

   With the Lord who comes to save,

   We shall trample on our foes,

   Mortal weakness, fear and woes.


   Only see ye that your heart

   Rise betimes from earthly lust;

   Would ye there with Him have part,

   Here obey your Lord and trust,

   Fix your hearts beyond the skies,

   Whither ye yourselves would rise.
     __________________________________________________________________

First Sunday after Easter.

   God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in His Son.

   From the Epistle. [1 Jn. 5:11]

   8,8,8,8

   Was waer ich ohne dich gewesen

   After [87]Novalis. about 1795.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   What had I been if Thou wert not?

   What were I now if Thou wert gone?

   Ah, fear and anguish were my lot,

   In this wide world I stood alone;

   Whate'er I love were safe no more,

   The future were a dark abyss;

   To whom could I my sorrows pour,

   If Thee my laden heart should miss?


   Longing for love through lonely years,

   The gloom of night came o'er my day;

   I followed, yet with secret tears,

   The world's wild joys, and owned her sway;

   Till restless from her turmoil driven,

   I turned within,--and grief was there:

   Ah, had we not a Friend in heaven,

   Who, who his lot on earth could bear!


   But when Thou mak'st Thy presence felt,

   And when the soul hath grasped Thee right,

   How fast the dreary shadows melt

   Beneath Thy warm and living light!

   In Thee I find a nobler birth,

   A glory o'er the world I see,

   And paradise returns to earth,

   And blooms again for us in Thee.


   Thou strong and loving Son of Man,

   Redeemer from the bonds of sin,

   'Tis Thou the living spark dost fan

   That sets my heart on fire within.

   Thou openest heaven once more to men,

   The soul's true home, Thy Kingdom, Lord,

   And I can trust and hope again,

   And feel myself akin to God.


   Brethren, go forth beside all ways,

   The wanderer greet with outstretched hand,

   And call him back who darkly strays,

   And bid him join our gladsome band.

   That Heaven hath stooped to earth below,

   Proclaim the glad news everywhere,

   That all may learn our faith, and know

   They too may find an entrance there.
     __________________________________________________________________

Second Sunday after Easter.

   Jesus said, I am the Good Shepherd: the Good Shepherd giveth His life
   for His sheep.

   From the Gospel. [Jn. 10:11]

   7,7,7,7,7,7

   Guter Hirte willst du nicht

   [88]Angelus. 1657.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Loving Shepherd, kind and true,

   Wilt Thou not in pity come

   To Thy Lamb? As shepherds do,

   Bear me in Thy bosom home;

   Take me hence from earth's annoy

   To Thy home of endless joy.


   See how I have gone astray

   In this earthly wilderness;

   Come and take me soon away

   To Thy flock who dwell in bliss,

   And Thy glory, Lord, behold,

   Safe within Thy heavenly fold.


   For I fain would gaze on Thee,

   With the lambs to whom 'tis given

   That they feed, from danger free,

   In the happy fields of heaven;

   Praising Thee, all terrors o'er,

   Never can they wander more.


   Here I live in sore distress,

   Fearing, watching, hour by hour;

   For my foes around me press,

   And I know their craft and power:

   Lord, Thy lamb can never be

   Safe one moment, but with Thee.


   O Lord Jesus, let me not

   'Mid the ravening wolves e'er fall,

   Help me as a shepherd ought,

   That I may escape them all:

   Bear me homeward in Thy breast,

   To Thy fold of endless rest.
     __________________________________________________________________

Third Sunday After Easter.

   And ye now have sorrow; but I will see you again, and your heart shall
   rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you.

   From the Gospel. [Jn. 16:22]

   7,7,7,7,7,7,7

   Auf den Nebel folgt die Sonne

   [89]Paul Gerhardt. 1659.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Cometh sunshine after rain,

   After mourning joy again,

   After heavy bitter grief

   Dawneth surely sweet relief!

   And my soul, who from her height

   Sank to realms of woe and night,

   Wingeth now to heaven her flight.


   He whom this world dares not face

   Hath refreshed me with His grace,

   And His mighty hand unbound

   Chains of hell about me wound;

   Quicker, stronger, leaps my blood,

   Since His mercy, like a flood,

   Poured o'er all my heart for good.


   Bitter anguish have I borne,

   Keen regret my heart hath torn,

   Sorrow dimmed my weeping eyes,

   Satan blinded me with lies;

   Yet at last am I set free,

   Help, protection, love to me

   Once more true companions be.


   None was ever left a prey,

   None was ever turned away,

   Who had given himself to God,

   And on Him had cast his load.

   Who in God his hope hath placed

   Shall not life in pain outwaste,

   Fullest joy he yet shall taste.


   Though today may not fulfil

   All thy hopes, have patience still,

   For perchance tomorrow's sun

   Sees thy happier days begun;

   As God willeth march the hours,

   Bringing joy at last in showers,

   When whate'er we asked is ours.


   Once a pain that would not cease

   Gnawed my heart without release,

   Sorrow bowed me 'neath her yoke,

   Then in sadness oft I spoke:

   Now no hope is left for me,

   And no rest, until I be

   Whelmed beneath Death's sunless sea.


   But when I was worn with care,

   Filled with dread well-nigh despair;

   When with watching many a night,

   On me fell pale sickness' blight;

   When my courage failed me fast,

   Camest Thou, my God, at last,

   And my woes were quickly past.


   Yea, Thou God didst make an end,

   Thou such help and strength did send,

   That I nevermore can praise

   As I ought, Thy matchless grace;

   When I shought with anxious fear,

   And could see no refuge here,

   Lo! I found Thy help was near.


   Now as long as here I roam,

   On this earth have house and home,

   Shall this wondrous gleam from Thee

   Shine through all my memory.

   To my God I yet will cling.

   All my life the praises sing

   That from thankful hearts outspring.


   Every sorrow, every smart,

   That the Eternal Father's heart

   Hath appointed me of yore,

   Or hath yet for me in store,

   As my life flows on I'll take

   Calmly, gladly, for His sake,

   No more faithless murmurs make.


   I will meet distress and pain

   I will greet e'en Death's dark reign,

   I will lay me in the grave,

   With a heart still glad and brave;

   Whom the Strongest doth defend,

   Whom the Highest counts His friend,

   Cannot perish in the end.

   For I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at the
   latter day upon the earth: and though after my skin worms destroy this
   body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.

   Job 19:25,26
     __________________________________________________________________

Fourth Sunday After Easter.

   It is expedient for you that I go away, for if I go not away, the
   Comforter will not come unto you.

   From the Gospel. [Jn. 16:7]

   7,7,7

   Heil'ger Geist, du Troester mein

   Translation of the 17th century

   after [90]King Robert of France. About A.D. 1000.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Holy Ghost! my Comforter!

   Now from highest heaven appear,

   Shed Thy gracious radiance here.


   Come to them who suffer dearth,

   With Thy gifts of priceless worth,

   Lighten all who dwell on earth!


   Thou the heart's most precious guest,

   Thou of comforters the best,

   Give to us, the o'er-laden, rest.


   Come, in Thee our toil is sweet,

   Shelter from the noon-day heat,

   From whom sorrow flieth fleet.


   Blessed Sun of Grace! O'er all

   Faithful hearts who on Thee call,

   Let Thy joy and solace fall.


   What without Thy aid is wrought,

   Skilful deed or wisest thought,

   God will count but vain and nought.


   Cleanse us, Lord, from sinful stain,

   O'er the parched heart oh rain,

   Heal the wounded from its pain.


   Bend the stubborn will to Thine,

   Melt the cold with fire divine,

   Erring hearts aright incline.


   Grant us, Lord, who cry to Thee,

   Steadfast in the faith to be,

   Give Thy gifts of charity.


   May we live in holiness,

   And in death find happiness,

   And abide with Thee in bliss!
     __________________________________________________________________

Fifth Sunday after Easter.

   These things have I spoken unto you, that ye might have peace. In the
   world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome
   the world.

   From the Gospel. [Jn. 16:33]

   10,10,10,4

   Christe, du Beistand deiner Kreuzgemeine

   [91]Loewenstern. During the Thirty Years' War.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Christ Thou the champion of that war-worn host

   Who bear Thy cross, haste, help, or we are lost;

   The schemes of those who long our blood have sought

   Bring Thou to nought.


   Do Thou Thyself for us Thy children fight,

   Withstand the devil, quell his rage and might,

   Whate'er assails Thy members left below

   Do Thou o'erthrow.


   And give us peace; peace in the church and school,

   Peace to the powers who o'er our country rule,

   Peace to the conscience, peace within the heart,

   Do Thou impart.


   So shall Thy goodness here be still adored,

   Thou guardian of Thy little flock, dear Lord,

   And heaven and earth through all eternity

   Shall worship Thee.
     __________________________________________________________________

Ascension Day.

   This same Jesus which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come,
   in like manner as ye have seen Him go into heaven.

   From the Epistle. [Acts 1:11]

   7,7,7,7

   Herr auf Erden muss ich leiden

   [92]Neumann. 1700.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Lord, on earth I dwell in pain;

   Here in anguish I must lie;

   Wherefore leav'st Thou me again,

   Why ascendest Thou on high?

   Take me, take me hence with Thee,

   Or abide, Lord, still in me;

   Let Thy love and gifts be left,

   That I be not all bereft.


   Leave Thy heart with me behind,

   Take mine hence with Thee away;

   Let my sighs an entrance find

   To Thy heaven whene'er I pray.

   When I cannot pray, oh plead

   With Thy Father in my stead;

   Seated now at God's right hand,

   Help us here Thy faithful band.


   Help me earthly toys to spurn,

   Raise my thoughts from things below;

   Mortal am I, yet I yearn

   Heavenly like my Lord to grow,

   That my time through faith may be

   Ordered for eternity;

   Till we meet, all perils o'er,

   Whither Thou hast gone before.


   In due season come again,

   As was promised us of old;

   Raise the members that have lain

   Gnawed of death beneath the mould,

   Judge the evil world that deems

   Thy sure words but empty dreams;

   Then for all our sorrows past,

   Let us know Thy joy at last.
     __________________________________________________________________

Sunday After Ascension Day.

   These all confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.
   . . . For they desired a better country, that is, an heavenly;
   wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God; for He hath
   prepared for them a city.

   Heb. 11:13,16

   7,7,7,7,7,7

   Himmelwaerts geht unsere Bahn

   [93]Schmolck. 1731.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Heavenward doth our journey tend,

   We are strangers here on earth,

   Through the wilderness we wend

   Towards the Canaan of our birth.

   Here we roam a pilgrim band,

   Yonder is our native land.


   Heavenward stretch, my soul, thy wings,

   Heavenly nature canst thou claim,

   There is nought of earthly things

   Worthy to be all thine aim;

   Every soul that God inspires

   Back to Him, its Source, aspires.


   Heavenward! doth His Spirit cry,

   When I hear Him in His Word,

   Showing thus the rest on high,

   Where I shall be with my Lord:

   When His Word fills all my thought,

   Oft to heaven my soul is caught.


   Heavenward ever would I haste,

   When Thy table, Lord, is spread;

   Heavenly strength on earth I taste,

   Feeding on the Living Bread;

   Such is e'en on earth our fare,

   Who Thy marriage feast shall share.


   Heavenward! Faith discerns the prize

   That is waiting us afar,

   And my heart would swiftly rise,

   High o'er sun and moon and star,

   To that Light behind the veil

   Where all earthly splendours pale.


   Heavenward Death shall lead at last,

   To the home where I would be,

   All my sorrows overpast,

   I shall triumph there with Thee,

   Jesus, who hast gone before,

   That we too might Heavenward soar.


   Heavenward! Heavenward! Only this

   Is my watchword on the earth;

   For the love of heavenly bliss

   Counting all things little worth.

   Heavenward all my being tends,

   Till in Heaven my journey ends.
     __________________________________________________________________

Whit Sunday

   I will pray the Father, and He shall give you another Comforter, that
   He may abide with you for ever, even the Spirit of Truth.

   From the Gospel. [Jn. 14:16-17]

   6,6,8,6,6,8,8,8,8

   Schmuekt das Fest mit Maien

   [94]Schmolck. 1715.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Come, deck our feast today

   With flowers and wreaths of May,

   And bring an offering pure and sweet;

   The Spirit of all grace

   Makes earth His dwelling-place,

   Prepare your hearts your Lord to meet;

   Receive Him, and He shall outpour

   Such light, all hearts with joy run o'er,

   And sound of tears is heard no more.


   Thou harbinger of peace,

   Who makest sorrows cease,

   Wisdom in word and deed is Thine;

   Strong hand of God, Thy seal

   The loved of Jesus feel;

   Pure light, o'er all our pathway shine!

   Give vigorous life and healthy powers,

   O let Thy sevenfold gifts be ours,

   Refresh us with Thy gracious showers!


   O touch our tongues with flame,

   When speaking Jesu's name!

   And lead us up the heavenward road.

   Give us the power to pray,

   Teach us what words to say,

   Whene'er we come before our God.

   O Highest Good, our spirits cheer,

   When raging foes are strong and near,

   Give us brave hearts undimmed by fear.


   O golden rain from heaven!

   Thy precious dews be given

   To bless the churches' barren field!

   And let Thy waters flow,

   Where'er the sowers sow,

   The seed of truth, that it may yield

   A hundred-fold its living fruit,

   O'er all the land may take deep root,

   And mighty branches heavenward shoot.


   Thou fiery glow of Love!

   Let us Thy ardours prove,

   Consume our hearts with quenchless fire!

   Come, O Thou trackless Wind!

   Breathe gently o'er our mind!

   Nor let the flesh to rule aspire;

   Help us our free-born right to take,

   The heavy yoke of sin to break,

   And all her tempting paths forsake.


   Be it Thine to stir our will;

   Our good intents fulfil;

   Be with us when we go and come;

   Deep in our spirits dwell,

   And make their inmost cell

   Thy temple pure, Thy holy home!

   Teach us to know our Lord, that we

   May call His Father ours through Thee,

   Thou Pledge of glories yet to be!


   Oh make our crosses sweet,

   And let Thy sunshine greet

   Our longing eyes in clouded hours!

   Wing Thou our upward flight

   Toward yonder mountain bright,

   Girded about with Zion's golden towers!

   Forsake us not when our last foe

   Puts forth his stength to lay us low,

   Then joyful victory bestow!


   Let us, while here we dwell,

   This one thought ponder well,

   That in God's likeness we are made.

   As o'er a fruitful land

   Rich harvests waving stand,

   We, serving Him, bear fruits that never fade,

   Till Thou in whom all comfort lies,

   Lift us to fields above the skies,

   And bid us bloom in Paradise!
     __________________________________________________________________

Monday in Whitsun-Week.

   Would God that all the Lord's people were prophets, and that the Lord
   would put His Spirit upon them!

   From the Lesson. [Num. 11:29]

   8,6,8,6,8,8,8,6

   Zeuch ein zu deinen Thoren

   [95]Paul Gerhardt. During the 30 Years' War.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Come to Thy temple here on earth,

   Be Thou my spirit's guest,

   Who givest us of mortal birth

   A second birth more blest;

   Spirit beloved, Thou mighty Lord,

   Who with the Father and the Son

   Reignest upon an equal throne,

   Art equally adored!


   Oh enter, let me feel and know

   Thy mighty power within,

   That can alone our help bestow,

   And rescue us from sin.

   Oh cleanse my soul and make it white,

   That I with heart unstained and true,

   May daily render service due,

   And honour Thee aright.


   I was a wild unfruitful vine

   Which Thou shouldst prune and train;

   Death pierced through all this life of min,

   But Thou my foe hast slain.

   Thy holy baptism is his grave,

   He perishes beneath the flood

   Of His most precious death and blood,

   Who died our life to save.


   Thou art the Spirit who dost teach

   To pray aright, for all

   Our prayers are heard if Thou beseech,

   Thy songs have sweetest fall.

   They soar on tireless wings to heaven,

   They fail not from before God's throne,

   Till all His goodness we have known

   By whom all help is given.


   Thou art the Spirit of all joy,

   Sadness Thou lovest not;

   Thy comfort beaming from on high,

   Lights up the darkest lot.

   Ah yes, how many a time of old

   Thy voice hath rapt my soul away,

   To yon bright halls of endless day,

   And oped the gates of gold!


   Thou art the Spirit of all love,

   The Friend of all kindly life,

   Thou wouldst not that our hearts should prove

   The pangs of wrath and strife.

   Thou hatest hatred's withering reign,

   In souls that discord maketh dark

   Dost Thou rekindle love's bright spark,

   And make them one again.


   On Thee is all this world upstaid,

   And in Thy hands doth rest;

   And Thou canst wayward hearts persuade

   To turn as seems Thee best:

   Oh therefore give Thy love and peace,

   That they may join in strongest bands

   Long parted foes, and through our lands

   These sad divisions cease.


   Thou art the true, the only Source

   Whence concord comes to men;

   Oh that Thy power might have free course

   And bring us peace again!

   Oh hear, and stem this mighty flood

   That o'er us death and sorrow spreads;

   Alas! each day afresh it sheds

   Like water human blood.


   And let our nation learn to know

   What, and how deep, our sin;

   Nay, let God's judgments come, if so

   A fire be lit within

   The hearts that loved themselves to please;

   In bitter shame now let them burn,

   And loving Thee, repentant spurn

   Their selfish worldly ease.


   Grace for the contrite heart abounds,

   Joy to the sad is given;

   To serve God's truth will heal our wounds,

   And bring us help from heaven;

   Lord, for Thine honour's sake, make known

   Thy power, convert the wicked now,

   And teach the hard to weep, for Thou

   Canst soften steel and stone!


   Arise and make an end of all

   Our heartache, and our pain;

   Thy wandering flock at last recall

   And grant them joy again;

   To peace and wealth the land restore,

   Wasted with fire or plague or sword;

   Come to Thy ruined churches, Lord,

   And bid them bloom once more!


   The rulers of our land defend,

   Our sovereign's throne uphold;

   That he and we may prosper, send

   True wisdom to the old;

   With piety the young men bless,

   And through the nation shed abroad

   True virtue and the fear of God,

   A nation's happiness.


   Fill every heart with holy zeal

   To keep the faith unstained;

   Let house and land Thy blessing feel,

   Whence all true wealth is gained.

   Him who resists Thy inward powers,

   The Evil Spirit, make Thou flee;

   Whate'er delights Thy heart, would he

   Fain root from out of ours.


   Give strong and cheerful hearts to stand

   Undaunted in the wars

   That Satan's fierce and mighty band

   Is waging with Thy cause.

   Help us to fight as warriors brave,

   That we may conquer in the field,

   And not one Christian man may yield

   His soul to sin a slave.


   Order according to Thy mind

   Our life from day to day,

   And when this life must be resigned,

   And death has seized his prey,

   When all our days have fleeted by,

   Help us to die with fearless spirit,

   And let us after death inherit

   Eternal life on high.
     __________________________________________________________________

Tuesday in Whitsun-Week.

   Hereby know ye the Spirit of God. Every spirit that confesseth that
   Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is of God.

   From the Lesson. [1 Jn. 4:2]

   8,8,8,8,8,8,8+4,4

   Komm Heil'ger Geist, Herre Gott

   [96]Luther. 1524.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Come, Holy Spirit, God and Lord,

   Be all Thy graces now outpoured

   On the believer's mind and soul,

   And touch our hearts with living coal.

   Thy Light this day shone forth so clear,

   All tongues and nations gathered near,

   To learn that faith, for which we bring

   Glad praise to Thee, and loudly sing,

   Hallelujah, Hallelujah!


   Thou Strong Defence, Thou Holy Light,

   Teach us to know our God aright,

   And call Him Father from the heart:

   The Word of life and truth impart,

   That we may love not doctrines strange,

   Nor e'er to other teachers range,

   But Jesus for our Master own

   And put our trust in Him alone.

   Hallelujah, Hallelujah!


   Thou Sacred Ardour, Comfort Sweet,

   Help us to wait with ready feet

   And willing heart at Thy command,

   Nor trial fright us from Thy band.

   Lord, make us ready with Thy powers,

   Strengthen the flesh in weaker hours,

   That as good warriors we may force

   Through life and death to Thee our course.

   Hallelujah, Hallelujah!
     __________________________________________________________________

Trinity Sunday.

   And God said, Let us make man in our image.

   From the Lesson. [Gen. 1:26]

   8,6,8,6,8,8,8,8

   Hochheilige Dreieinigkeit

   [97]Angelus. 1657.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Most High and Holy Trinity!

   Who of Thy mercy mild

   Hast formed me here in Time, to be

   Thy image and Thy child:

   Oh let me love Thee day and night

   With all my soul, with all my might;

   Oh come, Thyself my soul prepare,

   And make Thy dwelling ever there!


   Father! replenish with Thy grace

   This longing heart of mine,

   Make it Thy quiet dwelling-place,

   Thy sacred inmost shrine!

   Forgive that oft my spirit wears

   Her time and strenght in trivial cares,

   Enfold her in Thy changeless peace,

   So she from all but Thee may cease!


   Oh God the Son! Thy wisdom's light

   On my dark reason pour;

   Forgive that things of sense and sight

   Were all her joy of yore;

   Henceforth let every thought and deed

   On Thee be fixed, from Thee proceed,

   Draw me to Thee, for I would rise

   Above these earthly vanities!


   Oh Holy Ghost! Thou fire of love,

   Enkindle with Thy flame my will;

   Come with Thy strength, Lord, from above,

   Help me Thy bidding to fulfil:

   Forgive that I so oft have done

   What I as sinful ought to shun;

   Let me with pure and quenchless fire

   Thy favour and Thyself desire!


   Most High and Holy Trinity!

   Draw me away far hence,

   And fix upon eternity

   All powers of soul and sense!

   Make me at one within; at one

   With Thee on earth; when life is done

   Take me to dwell in light with Thee,

   Most High and Holy Trinity!
     __________________________________________________________________

First Sunday after Trinity.

   God is love . . . and herein is love, not that we loved God, but that
   He loved us.

   From the Epistle. [1 Jn. 4:10]

   8,8,8,8,10,10

   Geht hin ihr glaeubigen Gedanken

   [98]J. G. Hermann. 1747.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   O wings of faith, ye thoughts, fly hence,

   Roam o'er Eternity's vast field,

   Surpass the bounds of time and sense,

   And rise to Him, who hath revealed

   That He is Love: there pause, and awestruck view

   That ancient love with every morning new!


   Ere earth's foundations yet were laid,

   Or heaven's fair roof was spread abroad,

   Ere man a living soul was made,

   Love stirred within the heart of God;

   Love filled the long futurity with good,

   And grace to help at need beside her stood.


   'Twas Love whose counsel gave to me

   True life in Christ Thy only son,

   Whom Thou hast made our Way to Thee,

   From whom all grace flows ever down;

   Whose sacrifice can make us pure and whole,

   And bless and hallow all our inmost soul.


   'Twas Love, that long ere time began,

   That precious name of child bestowed;

   That opened Heaven on earth to man,

   And called us sinners sons of God;

   Whose gracious promptings move the Father's hand,

   That on the page of life our names may stand!


   Ah happy hours, whene'er upsprings

   My soul to yon Eternal Source,

   Whence the glad river downward sings,

   Watering with goodness all my course,

   So that each passing day anew I prove

   How tender and how true my Father's love!


   For what am I? At His command

   The million creatures of His power

   Start to life on sea and land;

   Oh why should God such blessings shower

   On me, who am a leaf that fadeth fast,

   A little shifting dust before the blast!


   I am not worthy, Lord, that Thou

   Shouldst such compassion on me show;

   That He who made the world should bow

   To cheer with love a wretch so low.

   O Father, I would utterly resign

   Myself to Thee; take me, and make me Thine.


   When strength and heart grow faint and sad,

   From battling long with heavy pain,

   Thy smile shines forth to make me glad,

   Thou crownest me with joy again;

   Then I behold Thy Spirit's wondrous power,

   Whose work is mightiest in our weakest hour.


   Forth from Thy rich and bounteous store

   Life's common blessings daily flow;

   More than we dare to ask, far more

   That we deserve, dost Thou bestow.

   My heart dissolves in tears of thankfulness,

   To see how true Thy care, how quick to bless.


   Nor here alone: hope pierces far

   Through all the shades of earth and time;

   Faith mounts beyond the farthest star,

   Yon shining heights she loves to climb,

   And gazing on eternity behold

   The promised land, our heritage of old.


   Can I with loveless heart receive

   Tokens of love that never cease?

   Can I be thankless still, and grieve

   Him who is all my joy and peace?

   Ah Friend of Man, were I to turn from Thee,

   Myself were sure my own worst enemy.


   Could I but honour Thee aright,

   Noble and sweet my song should be,

   That earth and heaven should learn Thy might,

   And what my God hath done for me.

   There is no music sweet as is Thy name,

   No joy so deep as pondering o'er Thy fame.


   O heart redeemed! thou think'st it long

   Till the appointed hour be come,

   When thou shalt join the angels' song

   To that Fair Love that brought thee home.

   Have patience, heart; time hurries fast away,

   Soon shalt thou reach the one Eternal Day.
     __________________________________________________________________

Second Sunday after Trinity.

   And this is His commandment; That we should believe on the name of His
   Son Jesus Christ, and love one another, as He gave us commandment.

   From the Epistle. [1 Jn. 3:23]

   7,7,7,7

   Herz und Herz vereint zusammen

   After [99]Zinzendorf. About 1731.

   trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855


   Heart and heart together bound,

   Seek in God your true repose,

   In your love the price be found

   Of your Saviour's love and woes;

   We the members, He the Head,

   He the sun, we beams He showers,

   Brethren by one Master led,

   We are His, and he is ours.


   Children of His realm draw near,

   Make your covenant stronger still,

   From your hearts allegiance swear

   Unto Him who conquered ill.

   If your bonds are yet too weak,

   If but fragile yet they prove,

   Help from His good Spirit seek

   Who can steel the chains of love.


   Only such love will suffice,

   As the love that dwells in Him,

   Love that from the cross ne'er flies,

   Love that spares not life or limb;

   'Twas for sinners He was slain,

   'Twas for foes He shed His blood,

   That His death for all might gain

   Endless life--the Highest Good.


   Thus, O truest Friend, unite

   All Thy consecrated band,

   That their hearts be set aright