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Bongs for t\)t f§owtt)o{b. 
 
 SACRED POETRY; MOSTLY TRANSLATED FROM 
 THE GERMAN 
 
 CATHERINE WINKWORTH. 
 
 AaAa 
 
 Yx 
 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 R. WORTHINGTON, 770 Broadway. 
 
 1882. 
 
• 
 
 Ci*.. 
 
 I ■ 
 
 
 
 38671 
 
> r 
 < 
 
 TO HIS EXCELLENCY 
 THE CHEVALIER BUNSEN, 
 
 ETC. ETC. ETC. 
 
 \RE, BY HIS KL 
 
 RESPECTFULLY AND GRATEFULLY 
 
 DEDICATED BY 
 
 THE TRANSLATOR. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 'HE following hymns are felecled from the 
 Chevalier Bunfen's "Verfuch eines allge- 
 meinen Gefang und Gebetbuchs," publifhed 
 in 1833. From the large number there given, 
 about nine hundred, little more than one hundred 
 have been chofen. This feleclion contains many of 
 thofe bell known and loved in Germany, but in a 
 work of this fize it is impoflible to include all that 
 have become claffical in that home of Chriftian po- 
 etry. In reading them it mull be remembered that 
 they are hymns, not facred poems, though from their 
 length and the intricacy of their metres, many of 
 them may feem to Englilh readers adapted rather to 
 purpofes of private than of public devotion. But 
 the finging of hymns forms a much larger and more 
 important part of public worfhip in the German 
 
Reformed Churches than in our own fervices. It is 
 the mode by which the whole congregation is ena- 
 bled to bear its part in the worfhip of God, anfwer- 
 ing in this reipecl to the chanting of our own Liturgy. 
 Ever fince 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 fo. There was no place for congregational 
 finging in public worlhip, and therefore the fpiritual 
 ibngs of the latter part of the middle ages afTumed for 
 the moll part an artificial and unpopular form. Yet 
 there were not wanting germs of a national Church 
 poetry in the verfes rather than hymns which were 
 fung in German on pilgrimages and at fome of the 
 high feftivals, many of which verfes were again de- 
 rived from more ancient Latin hymns. Several of 
 Luther's hymns are amplifications of verfes of this 
 clafs, fuch as the Pentecoftal hymn here given, " Come, 
 Holy Spirit, God and Lord,"* which is founded on 
 a German verfion of the "Veni Sandle Spiritus, 
 Reple." By adopting thefe verfes, and retaining 
 their well-known melodies, Luther enabled his hymns 
 
 * Page 117. 
 
JJrtfact 
 
 IX 
 
 to fpread rapidly among the common people. He 
 alfo compofed metrical verfions of feveral of the Pialms, 
 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 treafure of that facred poetry which is the 
 precious inheritance of every Chriftian Church. 
 
 The hymn, "In the midfl of life/'* is one of 
 thofe founded on a more ancient hymn, the "Media 
 in vita" of Notker, a learned Benedictine of St. Gall, 
 who died in 912. He is faid to have compofed it 
 while watching fome workmen, who were building 
 the bridge of Martinsbruck at the peril of their lives. 
 It was foon fet to mufic, and became univerfally 
 known; indeed it was used as a battle-fong, until the 
 cuftom was forbidden on account of its being fup- 
 pofed to exercife magical influences. In a German 
 verfion it formed part of the fervice for the burial of 
 the dead, as early as the thirteenth century, and is 
 dill preferved in an unmetrical form in the Burial 
 Service of our own Church. 
 
 * Page 235. 
 1* 
 
x preface. 
 
 The carol, "From Heaven above to earth I 
 come/'* is called by Luther himfelf, "a Chriftmas 
 child's fong concerning the child Jefus." He wrote 
 it for his little boy Hans, when the latter was live 
 years old, and it is Hill fung from the dome of the 
 Kreuzkirche in Drefden before day-break on the 
 morning of Chriftmas Day. It refers to the cuftom 
 then and long afterwards prevalent in Germany, of 
 making at Chriftmas- time reprefentations of the man- 
 ger with the infant Jefus. But the moft famous of 
 his hymns is his noble verfion of the 46th Pfalm, 
 "God is my ftronghold firm and fure,"f which may 
 be called the national hymn of his Proteftant country- 
 men. Luther's hymns are wanting in harmony and 
 corredlnefs of metre to a degree which often makes 
 them jarring to our modern ears, but they are always 
 full of fire and ftrength, of clear Chriftian faith, and 
 brave joyful truft in God. 
 
 From this time there has been a conftant fucceffion 
 of hymn-writers in the German church. Paul Eber, 
 an intimate friend of Melan&hon, wrote for his chil- 
 
 * Page 12, 
 
 f Pa2;e 173, 
 
preface. 
 
 X) 
 
 dren the hymn, "Lord Jefus Chrift, true Man and 
 God"* which foon became a favourite hymn for the 
 dying. Hugo Grotius afked that it might be repeated 
 to him in his laft moments, and expired ere its con- 
 clufion. Another hymn of the fame clafs is, "Q 
 weep not, -mourn not, o'er this bier,"f the "Jam 
 mcefta quiefce querela" of Prudentius II". translated by 
 Nicholas Hermann, the pious old precentor of Joa- 
 rhimfthal, a hymn long fung at every funeral. 
 
 The terrible times of the Thirty Years' War were 
 rich in facred poetry. Rift, a clergyman in North 
 Germany, who fuffered much in his youth from men- 
 tal conflids, and in after years from plunder, pefti- 
 Ience, and all the horrors of war, ufed to fay, "the 
 dear crofs hath preffed many fongs out of me," and 
 this feems to have been equally true of many of his 
 contemporaries. It certainly was true of Johann 
 Heermann, the author of fome of the moft touching 
 hymns for Paffion Week, who wrote liis fweet fongs 
 under great phyfical fuffering from ill health, and 
 amidft the perils of wir, during which he more than 
 once efcaped murder as by a miracle. So too the 
 
 * Page 239. f Pa S e 2 49- 
 
Xll 
 
 $ it face. 
 
 hymns of Simon Dach,* profeflbr of poetry in the 
 Univerlity of Konigfberg, fpeak of the fufFerings of 
 the Chriftian, and his longing to efcape from the 
 flrife of earth to the peace of heaven. 
 
 But the Chriflians of thofe days had often not only 
 to fuffer, but to fight for their faith, and in the hymns 
 of Altenburg and von Lowenftern we have two that 
 may be called battle-fongs of the church. The for- 
 mer publiihed his hymn, "Fear not, O little Hock, 
 the foe,"f in 1631, with this title: "A heart-cheer- 
 ing fong of comfort on the watchword of the Evan- 
 gelical Army in the battle of Leipfic, September 7th, 
 163 1, God with us." It was called Guftavus Adol- 
 phus' battle-fong, becaufe the pious hero often fang it 
 with his army; and he fang it for the laft time im- 
 mediately before the battle of Lutzen. The latter, 
 von Lowenftern, was the fon of a faddler, whom the 
 Emperor, Ferdinand III. ennobled for his public fer- 
 vices : he was at once a ftatefman, poet, and mufician. 
 His hymn, "Chrift, Thou the champion of the 
 band," J was a favourite of Niebuhr. 
 
 * Pages 129 and 252. f Page 17. 
 
 I Page 105. 
 
Another favourite hymn of Niebuhr was the hymn 
 to Eternity,* the greater part of which is of very 
 ancient but uncertain date. It received its prefent 
 form about che middle of the 17th century. 
 
 Man- of the hymns of Paul Gerhardt belong to 
 ihis period, though he lived until 1676, long after 
 the conclusion of peace. He is without doubt the 
 greateft of the German hymn-writers, poflefling loftier 
 poetical genius, and a richer variety of thought and 
 feeling than any other. His beautiful hymn, " Com- 
 mit thou all thy ways," is already well known to us 
 through Wefley's tranflation, and many others of his 
 are not inferior to it. He was a zealous preacher for 
 feveral years at the Nicolai-Kirche in Berlin; whence 
 he retired becaufe he had not fufficient freedom in 
 preaching the truth, and became Archdeacon of Lub- 
 ben. With him culminated the elder fchool of Ger- 
 man facred poetry, a fchool diftinguifhed by its depth 
 and iimplicity. Mofl of its hymns are either written 
 for the high feftivals and fervices of the Church, or 
 are expreffive of a fimple Chriftian faith, ready to 
 dare or fufFer all things for God's fake. To this 
 
 * Page 24. 
 
XIV 
 
 IJrrface. 
 
 fchool we muft refer, from their fpirit, two hymns 
 written a little later; the firil is, " Jefus my Redeemer 
 lives,"* one of the moft favourite Eafter hymns, 
 written by the pious Eledlrefs of Brandenburg, who 
 founded the Orphan Houfe at Oranienburg. The 
 other, " Leave God to order all thy ways,"f was 
 written by George Neumarck, Secretary of the Ar- 
 chives at Weimar. It fpread rapidly among the com- 
 mon people, at firft without the author's name. A 
 baker's boy in New Brandenburg ufed to fing it over 
 his work, and foon the whole town and neighbour- 
 hood flocked to him to learn this beautiful new fong. 
 In the latter half of the feventeenth century a new 
 fchool was founded by Johann Franck, and Johann 
 Scheffler, commonly called Angelus» The former 
 was burgomafter of Guben in Lufatia; the latter 
 phyfician to Ferdinand III.; but in 1663 he became 
 a Roman Catholic, and afterwards a prieft. The 
 pervading idea of this fchool is the longing of the foul 
 for that intimate union with the Redeemer of the 
 world, which begins with the birth of Chrift in the 
 heart, and is perfected after death. This longing 
 
 * Page 93, 
 
 f Page 152, 
 
tyvdatt. 
 
 XI 
 
 breathes through the hymns of Franck given in this 
 collection; one of them, "Redeemer of the nations, 
 come,"* is a tranflation of the "Veni, Redemptor 
 gentium" of St. Ambrofe. Angelus dwells rather on 
 the means of attaining this union by the facrifice of 
 the Self to God through the great High-prieft of man- 
 kind, an idea exprefTed in his hymns with peculiar 
 tendernefs and fweetnefs. We find much of his fpirit 
 and fweetnefs lingering in modern times about the 
 few hymns of the gifted Novalis. 
 
 The greateft poet of this fchool is however Gep- 
 hardt Terfleegen, who lived during the early part o. 
 the eighteenth century as a ribbon manufacturer at 
 Muhlheim. His hymns have great beauty, and be- 
 fpeak a tranquil and childlike foul filled and bleffed 
 with the contemplation of God. The well-known 
 hymn of Wefley's, "Lo God is here! let us adore," 
 belongs to him, and in its original fhape is one of the 
 moft beautiful he ever wrote, but is frequently met 
 with only in a disfigured and mutilated form. To 
 this fchool belong a large number of the hymns in 
 this collection, among which thofe of Defzler,f an 
 
 Page 1 86. 
 
 t Pages 59, 147. 
 
XVI 
 
 preface. 
 
 excellent philologift of Nuremberg, and of Anton 
 Ulrich,* the pious and learned Duke of Brunfwick, 
 are particularly good. Thofe of Schmolck, the paf 
 tor of Schweidnitz, who exercifed great influence 
 over the hymn-writing of his day, have more fimplicity 
 than moft of the reft, but are characterifed by a curi- 
 ous mixture of real poetry and deep feeling with 
 occaiional vulgarities of expreffion. The defc&s of 
 this fchool, which mowed themfelves ftrongly in the 
 courfe of the eighteenth century, were a tendency 
 that the feeling fhould degenerate into fentimentality, 
 and the devout dwelling of the heart on Chrift's great 
 facrifice into companion and gratitude for His phyfi- 
 cal fufFerings, — defects which greatly disfigure many 
 of the Moravian hymns. In fome of the hymns here 
 tranflated the expreffion "Chrifti Wundenhohle" oc- 
 curs, which has been rendered by the blood or crofs 
 of (Thrift, as being phrafes at once more fcriptural and 
 more confonant to our feelings. There were not 
 wanting however, even at this period, many hymns fit 
 for good foldiers of Jefus Chrift, fuch as "Who feeks 
 in weaknefs his excufe," f and others of the fame kind 
 
 * Pages 145, 159, 220. 
 
 t P a g e H9- 
 
xvu 
 
 fJrcfcttt. 
 
 Germany is rich in Morning and Evening Hymns, 
 and Hymns for the Dying, of which a few are given 
 in thefe tranflations. Among thefe is the morning 
 hymn of Baron von Canitz : I was not aware until 
 after tranflating it that it had been already publifhed 
 at the clofe of one volume of Dr. Arnold's fermons. 
 
 The hymn " How bleft to all Thy followers, Lord, 
 the road," * was the favourite hymn of Schelling. 
 
 In tranflating thefe hymns the original form has 
 been retained with the exception, that fingle rhymes 
 are almoft invariably subftituted for the double rhymes 
 which the ftructure of the language renders fo com- 
 mon in German poetry, but which become cloving to 
 an Englifh ear when often repeated ; and that Englifh 
 double common or fhort metre is ufed inftead of what 
 may be called the German common metre, the 
 fame that we call Gay's ftanza, which is fcarcely 
 folemn enough for facred purpofes. In a few 
 inflancef flight alterations have been made in the 
 metre, when, as is the cafe with fome excellent hymns 
 in our own language, it is hardly grave and dignified 
 enough for the poetry. Thefe alterations are but 
 * Page 175. 
 
XV1U 
 
 tyxtfatt 
 
 flight, and feemed juftifiable, fince thefe hymns have 
 been tranflated, not fo much as fpecimens of German 
 hymn-writing, as in the hope that thefe utterances of 
 Chriftian piety which have comforted and ftrength- 
 ened the hearts of many true Chriftians in their 
 native country, may fpeak to the hearts of fome 
 among us, to help and cheer thofe who mull ftrive 
 and fuffer, and to make us feel afrefh what a deep and 
 true Communion of Saints exifts among all the chil- 
 dren of God in different churches and lands. 
 
 Alderley Edge, 
 July 1 6th, 1855, 
 
fc «* o a 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 |IRST Sunday in Advent. The Dawn I 
 Second Sunday in Advent. The com- 
 ing of the Day of the Lord . . 4 
 Third Sunday in Advent. Chrift 
 
 the Deliverer 7 
 
 Fourth Sunday in Advent. Chrift the King 
 
 of all men 10 
 
 Christmas Eve. A Carol 12 
 
 Christmas Day. The Word made flefh . . 15 
 St. Stephen's Day. A Battle-Song in troubled 
 
 Times 17 
 
 St. John the Evangelist. Chrift the Life of 
 
 the Soul 19 
 
 Innocents' Day. The childlike heart ... .22 
 Sunday after Christmas Day. The Defire of 
 
 all Nations 24 
 
 Circumcision. A Hymn for New Year's Day 26 
 Epiphany. The Manifeftation of the Light of 
 
 the World 30 
 
 First Sunday after Epiphany. The Chriftian 
 
 Sacrifice 32 
 
 Second Sunday after Epiphany. God's Sove- 
 reignty our Stronghold of Hope . ... 33 
 Third Sunday after Epiphany. The Word of 
 
 God 36 
 
 Fourth Sunday after Epiphany. A Prayer in 
 
 mental conflidt . 38 
 
 Fifth Sunday after Epiphany. A Prayer for 
 
 the Prefence of the Spirit of God in the 
 
 Church 4J 
 
xx QLonitntB. 
 
 Sixth Sunday after Epiphany. Afpiration after 
 
 Purity and Holinefs 43 
 
 Septuagesima Sunday. The Chriftian Warfare 46 
 Sexagesima Sunday. A Spring Song ... 48 
 Quinquagesima Sunday. Love the Root of all 
 
 Excellence 50 
 
 „ „ Chrift opening the 
 
 Eyes of the Blind 53 
 
 Ash Wednesday. A Cry for Mercy ... 55 
 First Sunday in Lent. The Lonelinefs and 
 
 Anguifh of Penitence 57 
 
 Second Sunday in Lent. Clinging to Chrift in 
 
 utter need 59 
 
 Third Sunday in Lent. A Warning of Judg- 
 ment 61 
 
 Fourth Sunday in Lent. Confeflion of Sin . 63 
 Fifth Sunday in Lent. Tarrying for Light and 
 
 Help 65 
 
 Palm Sunday. Chrift's Entry into Jerufalem . 67 
 Monday in Passion Week. Chrift Weeping 
 
 over Jerufalem 70 
 
 Tuesday in Passion Week. Chrift's Death our 
 
 Purification 72 
 
 Wednesday in Passion Week. Chrift's Death 
 
 our Redemption 74 
 
 Thursday in Passion Week. Our Requital of 
 
 Chrift's Love jj 
 
 Good Friday. The Crucifixion 80 
 
 „ „ Evening. The Love of God in 
 
 Chrift 83 
 
 Easter Even. Reft in the Grave . . . . 85 
 Easter Day. The Triumph over Death . . 87 
 „ „ Evening. The Refurreclion from 
 
 the Death of Sin 89 
 
 Monday in Easter Week. The Benefits of 
 
 Chrift's Refurreclion 91 
 
 Tuesday in Easter Week. Chrift's Life the 
 
 Source and Pledge of ours 93 
 
ÖTonfente. ™ 
 
 First Sunday after Easter. The Kingdom of 
 
 Heaven in the midft of us 96 
 
 Second Sunday after Easter. The Good Shep- 
 herd 98 
 
 Third Sunday after Easter. A Song of Joy 
 
 after a time of Sorrow 10c 
 
 Fourth Sunday after Easter. The Indwelling 
 
 of the Holy Spirit 103 
 
 Fifth Sunday after Easter. Chrift the Cham- 
 pion of His Church 105 
 
 Ascension Day. The Soul longing to be where 
 
 Chrift is 106 
 
 Sunday after Ascension Day. The Homeward 
 
 Journey . . 108 
 
 Whit Sunday. The Descent of the Holy Spirit no 
 
 Monday in Whitsun-week. The Spirit of God 
 
 the Spirit of Love, Joy, and Peace . . .113 
 
 Tuesday in Whitsun-week. The Spirit of God 
 
 the Witnefs to His Son 117 
 
 Trinity Sunday. The Fount of Being, the 
 
 Word, the uniting Spirit 119 
 
 First Sunday after Trinity. The Love of 
 
 God 121 
 
 Second Sunday after Trinity. The Love of 
 
 His Children 124 
 
 Third Sunday after Trinity. Peace in Trouble 1 26 
 
 Fourth Sunday after Trinity. Sharing the 
 
 Crofs and the Crown . . . - . . . .129 
 
 Fifth Sunday after Trinity. The Good Sol- 
 dier of Chrift . . . • 13c 
 
 Sixth Sunday after Trinity. Self-Surrender 
 
 to God 134 
 
 Seventh Sunday after Trinity. A Summer 
 
 Song 136 
 
 Eighth Sunday after Trinity. The Spirit of 
 
 God the Fountain of Wifdom and Purity . 140 
 
 Ninth Sunday after Trinity. The Choice . 142 
 
xxii Contents 
 
 Tenth Sunday after Trinity. Longing of the 
 
 Heart after God 145 
 
 Eleventh Sunday after Trinity. God's Pre- 
 
 fence the Source of all Joy 1 47 
 
 Twelfth Sunday after Trinity. The Sin of 
 
 Weaknefs 149 
 
 Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity. Truft in 
 
 God 152 
 
 Fourteenth Sunday after Trinity. The Crofs 
 
 our Glory 154 
 
 Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity. The Secret 
 
 of Content 156 
 
 Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity. God's fure 
 
 Help in Sorrow 159 
 
 Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity. The Song 
 
 of the Chriftian Pilgrim 161 
 
 Eighteenth Sunday after Trinity. Vow to 
 
 be true to Chrift in an Age of Apoftacy . 165 
 Nineteenth Sunday after Trinity. Living 
 
 Faith . . 167 
 
 Twentieth Sunday after Trinity. Rejoicing 
 
 in God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sancli- 
 
 fier 170 
 
 Twenty-first Sunday after Trinity. Luther's 
 
 Pfalm 173 
 
 Twenty-second Sunday after Trinity. The 
 
 Unfearchable Wifdom of God . . . .175 
 Twenty-third Sunday after Trinity. Aipi- 
 
 ration after the Life Eternal 1 80 
 
 Twenty-fourth Sunday after Trinity. The 
 
 One Thing Needful 183 
 
 Twenty-fifth Sunday after Trinity. Rejoice, 
 
 the Lord is at hand 186 
 
 St. Andrew's Day. Following Chrift . - . .188 
 St. Thomas the Apostle. The Soul's Joy in 
 
 difcovering Chrift, the link between God 
 
 and Man 191 
 
ÖTontenta. 
 
 XXlli 
 
 Presentation in the Temple. The Song of 
 
 Simeon 193 
 
 St. Matthias. The True Reft 195 
 
 Annunciation. The Happineß of the Soul that 
 
 has no Will but God's 198 
 
 St. Barnabas. The Merciful Providence of God 20c 
 
 St Michael's. The Miniftry of Angels . . 205 
 
 All Saints'. The Company of the Bleft . . 207 
 
 Hymns for the Morning »213 
 
 Hymns for the Evening 225 
 
 For the Sick and Dying 235 
 
 For the Burial of the Dead 249 
 
 Index 255 
 

£gm (fkrmamccu 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 
 
 The night is far fpent, the day is at hand ; let us 
 therefore caft off the works of darknefs, and put on 
 the armour of light. — From the Epistle. 
 
 O WATCHMAN, will the night of fin 
 Be never paft? 
 O watchman, doth the day begin 
 To dawn upon thy {training fight at lall? 
 Willitdifpel ' 
 Ere long the mills of fenfe wherein I dwell? 
 
 Now all the earth is bright and glad 
 
 With the frefh morn; 
 But all my heart is cold and dark and lad; 
 Sun of the foul, let me behold Thy dawn ! 
 
 Come Jefus, Lord ! 
 Oh quickly come, according to Thy word! 
 
Cgra (Germanica. 
 
 Do we not live in thofe bleft days 
 
 So long foretold, 
 When Thou fhouldft come to bring us light 
 and grace? 
 And yet I fit in darknefs as of old, 
 
 Pining to fee 
 Thy glory ; but Thou ftill art far from me. 
 
 Long fince Thou cam'ft to be the light 
 
 Of all men here; 
 
 And yet in me is nought but blackeft night. 
 
 Wilt Thou not then to me, Thine own, appear? 
 
 Shine forth and bleis 
 My foul with vifion of Thy righteoufnefs! 
 
 If thus in darknefs ever left, 
 
 Can I fulfil 
 The works of light, while of all light bereft? 
 How mail I learn in love and meeknefs ftill 
 
 To follow Thee, 
 And all the finful works of darknefs flee ? 
 
 Tne light of reafon cannot give 
 
 Life to my foul; 
 Jefiis alone can make me truly live, 
 One glance of His can make my fpirit whole, 
 
 Arife, and mine 
 On this poor longing, waiting heart of mine! 
 
 Single and clear, not weak or blind, 
 The eye muft be, 
 
fgra Germanica. 
 
 To which Thy glory fhall an entrance find; 
 For if Thy chofen ones would gaze on Thee, 
 
 No earthly fcreen 
 Between their fouls and Thee mull intervene. 
 
 Jems, do Thou mine eyes unfeal, 
 
 And let them grow 
 Quick to difcern whate'er Thou doft reveal, 
 So fhall I be deliver'd from that woe, 
 
 Blindly to ftray 
 Through hopelefs night, while all around is day. 
 
 Richter, i 704. 
 
Cgva ©armamca. 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 
 
 Behold the fig-tree and all the trees ; when they now 
 fhoot forth, ye fee and know of your own felves that 
 fummer is now nigh at hand. So likewife ye, when ye 
 fee that thefe things come to pafs, know ye that the 
 kingdom of God is nigh at hand. — From the Gospel. 
 
 AWAKE, thou carelefs world, awake! 
 The final day mail furely come ; 
 What Heaven hath fixed Time cannot 
 fhake, 
 It cannot fweep away thy doom. 
 Know, what the Lord Himfelf hath fpoken 
 Shall come at lall and not delay, 
 Though heaven and earth ihall pafs away, 
 His fteadfaft word can ne'er be broken. 
 
 Awake! He comes to judgment, wake! 
 
 Sinners behold His countenance 
 In beauty terrible, and quake 
 
 Condemn'd beneath His piercing glance. 
 Lo He to whom all power is given, 
 
 Who fits at God's right hand on high, 
 
 In fire and thunder draweth nigh 
 To judge all nations under Heaven. 
 
 I 
 
Cflra ©armanica. 
 
 Awake, thou carelefs world, awake ! 
 
 Who knows how foon our God fhall please 
 That fiiddenly that day fhould break; 
 
 We fathom not fiich depths as thefe. 
 O guard thee well from lull and greed, 
 
 For as the bird is in the fnare, 
 
 Or ever of its foe aware, 
 So comes that day with filent fpeed. 
 
 The Lord in love delayeth long 
 The final day, and grants us fpace 
 
 To turn away from fin and wrong, 
 
 And mourning feek His help and grace. 
 
 He holdeth back that belt of days, 
 Until the righteous fhall approve 
 Their faith and hope, their conflant love; 
 
 So gentle us-ward are His ways! 
 
 But ye, O faithful fouls, fhall fee 
 
 That morning rife in love and joy; 
 Your Saviour comes to fet you free, 
 
 Your Judge fhall all your bonds deftroy ; 
 He, the true Jofhua, then fhall bring 
 
 His people with a mighty hand, 
 
 Into their promifed father-land, 
 Where fongs of victory they fhall fing. 
 
 Rejoice ! the fig-tree fhows her green, 
 The fpringing year is in its prime, 
 
 The little flowers afrefh are feen, 
 
 We gather ftrength in this great time. 
 
Cyra Germanica 
 
 The glorious fummer draweth near, 
 When all this body's earthly load, 
 In light that morning fheds abroad, 
 
 Shall wax as funshine pure and clear. 
 
 Arife, and let us day and night 
 
 Pray in the Spirit ceafelefsly, 
 That we may heed our Lord aright, 
 
 And ever in His prefence be. 
 Arife, and let us hafte to meet 
 
 The Bridegroom ftanding at the door, 
 
 That with the angels evermore 
 We too may worfliip at His feet. 
 
 Rist. 16c 
 
Cgra Germanica. 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 
 
 And it (hall be faid in that day ; Lo ! this is our 
 God, we have waited for Him, and He will fave us ; 
 this is the Lord, we have waited for Him, and we will 
 rejoice in His falvation. — From the Lesson. 
 
 HOW mall I meet Thee? How my heart 
 Receive her Lord aright? 
 Defire of all the earth Thou art! 
 My hope, my fole delight! 
 Kindle the lamp, Thou Lord, alone, 
 
 Half dying in my breaft, 
 And make thy gracious pleafure known 
 How I may greet Thee belt. 
 
 Her budding boughs and faireft palms 
 
 Thy Zion ftrews around; 
 And fongs of praife and fweeteft pfalms 
 
 From my glad heart fhall found. 
 My defert foul breaks forth in flowers, 
 
 Rejoicing in Thy fame; 
 And puts forth all her fleeping powers 
 
 To honour Jefus' name. 
 
 In heavy bonds I languifh'd long, 
 
 Thou com'ft to fet me free; 
 The fcorn of every mocking tongue— 
 
 Thou com'ft to honour me. 
 
8 
 
 Cgra (Bwmamca. 
 
 A heavenly crown Thou doft bellow, 
 And gifts of pricelefs worth, 
 
 That vaniih not as here below 
 The riches of the earth. 
 
 Nought, nought, dear Lord ! had power to move 
 
 Thee from Thy rightful place, 
 Save that almighty wondrous Love 
 
 Wherewith Thou doll embrace 
 This weary world and all her woe, 
 
 Her load of grief and ill 
 And forrow, more than man can know; 
 
 Thy love is deeper Hill. 
 
 Oh write this promife in your heart, 
 
 Ye fad at heart, with whom 
 Sorrows fall thick, and joys depart, 
 
 And darker grows your gloom. 
 Defpair not, for your help is near, 
 
 He llandeth at the door 
 Who bell can comfort yoa and cheer, 
 
 He comes, nor llayeth more. 
 
 Vex not your fouls 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, 
 All pain to foothe, all tears to Hill, 
 
 To Him they all are known. 
 
Cgra dfiformanica. 
 
 Ye fliall not fhrink nor turn afide, 
 
 Fearing to fee His face 
 So deep your fins, for He will hide 
 
 The darkeft with His grace. 
 He comes, He comes, to fave from fin, 
 
 All finners to releafe, 
 For all the fons of God to win 
 
 The heritage of peace. 
 
 a 
 
 Why afk ye what the wicked faith, 
 
 Why heed his craft and fpite? 
 The Lord deftroys him with a breath, 
 
 He ftands not in His fight. 
 Chrift comes, He comes, as King to reign! 
 
 Then gather ye His foes, 
 From earth's far corners; yet in vain 
 
 Would ye His rule oppofe. 
 
 He comes to judge the earth, and ye 
 
 Who mock'd Him, feel His wrath; 
 But they who loved and fought Him fee 
 
 His light o'er all their path. 
 O Sun of Righteoufnefs ! arife, 
 
 And guide us on our way, 
 To yon fair manfion in the ikies 
 
 Of joyous, cloudlefs day. 
 
 Paul Gerhardt. 1653 
 
10 £gra (femanka. 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT 
 
 Rejoice in the Lord alway, and again I fay unto you, 
 Rejoice . . . The Lord is at hand. — From the Epistle 
 
 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 falvation doth He bring, 
 Wherefore rejoice, and gladly fing 
 Praife, O my God, to Thee! 
 Creator, wife is Thy decree! 
 
 The Lord is juft, a helper tried, 
 
 Mercy is ever at His fide, 
 
 His kingly crown is holinefs, 
 
 His fceptre, pity in diflrefs, 
 
 The end of all our woe He brings; 
 
 Wherefore the earth is glad and fings 
 
 Praife, O my God, to Thee! 
 
 O Saviour, great Thy deeds fhall be! 
 
 Oh, blefl the land, the city bleft, 
 Where Chrift the ruler is confeft ! 
 O happy hearts and happy homes 
 To whom this King in triumph comes! 
 
Caret (flwrnantca. !| 
 
 The cloudlefs Sun of joy He is, 
 Who bringeth pure delight and blifs; 
 
 Praife, O my God, to Thee! 
 
 Comforter, for Thy comfort free! 
 
 Fling wide the portals of your heart, 
 
 Make it a temple fet apart 
 
 From earthly ufe for Heaven's employ, 
 
 Adorn'd with prayer, and love, and joy; 
 
 So fhall your Sovereign enter in, 
 
 And new and nobler life begin. 
 Praife, 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 prefence feel, 
 
 Thy grace and love in me reveal, 
 
 Thy Holy Spirit guide us on 
 
 Until our glorious goal be won! 
 Eternal praife and fame, 
 Be offer'd, Saviour, to Thy Name! 
 
 Weiszel. 1635, 
 
12 
 
 fgra (fäntnanka. 
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE. 
 A Carol. 
 
 Behold I bring you good tidings of great joy that 
 (hall be to all people. — Luke ii. 10. 
 
 F 
 
 ROM heaven above to earth I come 
 To bear good news to every home; 
 Glad tidings of great joy I bring, 
 Whereof I now will fay and ling: 
 
 To you, this night, is born a child 
 Of Mary, chofen mother mild; 
 This little child, of lowly birth, 
 Shall be the joy of all your earth. 
 
 Tis Chrift our God, who far on high 
 Hath heard your fad and bitter cry; 
 Himfelf will your Salvation be, 
 Himfelf from fin will make you free. 
 
 He brings thofe bleffings, long ago 
 Prepared by God for all below; 
 Henceforth, His kingdom open ftands 
 To you, as to the angel bands. 
 
 Thefe are the tokens ye fhall mark, 
 The fwaddling clothes and manger dark 
 
Cgra ®*rmanica. »3 
 
 There fhall ye find the young child *aid, 
 By whom the heavens and earth were made. 
 
 Now let us all with gladfome cheer 
 Follow the fhepherds, and draw near, 
 To fee this wondrous gift of God 
 Who hath His only Son bellowed. 
 
 Give heed, my heart, lift up thine eyes! 
 Who is it in yon manger lies? 
 Who is this child fo young and fair? 
 The blefled Chrift-child lieth there. 
 
 Welcome to earth, Thou noble gueft, 
 Through whom e'en wicked men arebleft! 
 Thou com'ft to fhare our mifery, 
 What can we render, Lord, to Thee! 
 
 Ah, Lord, who haft created all, 
 How haft Thou made Thee weak and final!, 
 That Thou muft choofe Thy infant bed 
 Where afs and ox but lately fed! 
 
 Were earth a thoufand times as fair 
 Befet with gold and jewels rare, 
 She yet were far too poor to be, 
 A narrow cradle, Lord, for Thee. 
 
 For velvets foft and iilken fluff 
 Thou haft but hay, and ftraw fb rough, 
 Whereon Thou king, fo rich and great, 
 As 'twere Thy heaven, art throned in ftate. 
 
 ~i 
 
h £gra ©Amanita. 
 
 Thus hath it pleafed Thee to make plain 
 The truth to us poor fools and vain, 
 That this world's honour, wealth and might 
 Are nought and worthlefs in Thy fight. 
 
 Ah deareft Jefus, Holy Child, 
 Make Thee a bed, foft, 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 filence keep; 
 I too muft fing with joyful tongue 
 That fweeteft ancient cradle-fong — 
 
 Glory to God in highefl Heaven, 
 Who unto man His Son hath given! 
 While angels fing with pious mirth 
 A glad New Year to all the earth. 
 
 Luther. 
 Written for his little fon Hans. 1540, 
 
Cgra <8>*rmamca. 15 
 
 CHRISTMAS DAY. 
 
 And the Word was made flefh, and dwelt among us 
 
 From the Gospel. 
 
 OTHOU effential Word, 
 Who from eternity 
 Dwelt with the Father and waft God, 
 Who art ordain'd to be 
 The Saviour of our race; 
 Welcome indeed Thou art, 
 BleiTed Redeemer, Fount of Grace, 
 To this my longing heart! 
 
 Come, felf-exiftent Word, 
 
 Within my fpirit fpeak, 
 In that bleft foul where Thou art heard 
 
 Peace dwells without a break. 
 
 Light of the world, abide 
 
 Through faith within my heart, 
 Leave me to feek no other guide, 
 
 Nor e'er from Thee depart. 
 
 Why didft thou leave Thy throne, 
 
 O Jefiis, 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 doft dwell. 
 
i6 
 
 Cgra ©armamca. 
 
 Wherefore I fain would give 
 My heart and foul, dear Lord, 
 
 To ferve Thee only while I live 
 And fpread Thy fame abroad. 
 O Jefus, take away 
 This flony heart of mine! 
 
 Give me another heart, I pray, 
 That fliall be wholly Thine. 
 
 Let nought be left within 
 But cometh of Thy hand; 
 
 Root quickly out the weeds of fin, 
 My cunning foe withftand. 
 From Thee comes nothing ill, 
 'Tis he doth fet the tares; 
 
 Make plain my path before me (till, 
 Save me from all his mares. 
 
 Thou art the Life, O Lord! 
 
 Sole Light of Life Thou art! 
 Let not Thy glorious rays be pour'd 
 
 In vain on my dark heart. 
 
 Star of the Eaft, arife! 
 
 Drive all my clouds away, 
 Guide me till earth's dim twilight dies 
 
 Into the perfect day! 
 
 Laurenti. 1700. 
 
iCjira ®ermanka, 
 
 '7 
 
 ST. STEPHEN'S DAY. 
 
 I have feen, I have feen the afflictions of my people. 
 
 From the Lesson. 
 
 FEAR not, O little flock, the foe 
 Who madly feeks your overthrow, 
 Dread not his rage and power. 
 What though your courage fometimes 
 faints, 
 His feeming triumph o'er God's faints 
 Lafts but a little hour. 
 
 Be of good cheer; your caufe belongs 
 To Him who can avenge your wrongs, 
 
 Leave it to Him our Lord. 
 Though hidden yet from all our eyes, 
 He fees the Gideon who fhall rife 
 
 To fave us, and His word. 
 
 As true as God's own word is true, 
 Not earth or hell with all their crew 
 
 Againft us fhall prevail. 
 A jefl and byword are they grown; 
 God is with us, we are His own, 
 
 Our victory cannot fail. 
 
Iß 
 
 Cgra ®trmanica. 
 
 Amen, Lord Jefus, grant our prayer i 
 Great Captain, now Thine arm make bare; 
 
 Fight for us once again! 
 So fhall The faints and martyrs raife 
 A mighty chorus to Thy praife, 
 
 World without end» Amen. 
 
 Altei burg. 
 
 Guftavus Adolphus' Battle-fong. 1 63 1 . 
 
Cgra Gkvmamca 
 
 is 
 
 ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST. 
 
 Jf I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to 
 thee ? Follow thou me. — From the Gospel. 
 
 IF Thou, True Life, wilt in me live, 
 Confume whate'er is not of Thee ; 
 One look of Thine more joy can give 
 Than all the world can offer me. 
 O Jefus, be Thou mine for ever, 
 Nought from Thy Love my heart can fever, 
 That Thou haft promifed in Thy Word; 
 Oh deep the joy whereof I drink, 
 Whene'er my foul in Thee can fink, 
 And own her Bridegroom and her Lord. 
 
 O Heart, that glow'd with love and died, 
 
 Kindle my foul with fire divine; 
 Lord, in the heart Thou'ft won, abide, 
 
 And all in it that is not Thine 
 Oh let me conquer and deftroy, 
 Strong in Thy love, Thou Fount of Joy« 
 Nay, be Thou conqueror, Lord, in me; 
 So fhall I triumph o'er defpair, 
 O'er death itfelf Thy victory fhare, 
 Thus ruffer, live, and die in Thee. 
 
20 
 
 €ma (ßzvmanxta. 
 
 And let the fire within me move 
 
 My heart to ferve Thy members here ; 
 
 Let me their need and trials prove, 
 That I may know my love fincere 
 
 And like to Thine, Lord, pure and warm ; 
 
 For when my foul hath won that form 
 
 Is likeft to Thy holy mind, 
 
 Then I fhall love both friends and foes, 
 And learn to grieve o'er others' woes, 
 
 Like Thee, my Pattern, true and kind. 
 
 The light and ftrength of faith, oh grant, 
 
 That I may bring forth holy fruit, 
 A living branch, a blooming plant, 
 
 Fall clinging to my vine — my root. 
 Thou art my Saviour, whom I truft, 
 My Rock, — I build not on the duft, — 
 The ground of faith, eternal, fure. 
 
 When hours of doubt o'ercloud my mind, 
 Thy ready help then let me find, 
 Thy ftrength my fickening fpirit cure. 
 
 Nor let my hope e'er fade away, — 
 Thy crofs the anchor of my heart, — 
 
 But let her rife o'er fear, difmay, 
 
 Conqueror through Thee; mine All Thou art. 
 
 The world may build on what decays, 
 
 O Chrift, my Sun of Hope, my gaze 
 
 Cares not o'er lefler lights to range; 
 To Thee, in Love, I ever cleave, 
 For well I know Thou ne'er wilt leave 
 
 My foul, Thy love can never change. 
 
£ gra (Germanica, 
 
 21 
 
 Wouldft Thou that I ihould tarry here, 
 
 I live becaufe Thou willeft it: 
 Or Death mould fuddenly appear, 
 
 I fhall not fear him, Lord, one whit, 
 If but Thy Life ftill in me live; 
 Thy holy death my ftrength fhall give 
 When earthly life draws near its end; 
 
 To Thee I give away my will, 
 
 In life and death remembering ftill 
 Thou feek'ft my good, O trueft Friend. 
 
 Sinold. 1710, 
 
22. 
 
 £wa (fkrmanica, 
 
 INNOCENTS» DAY. 
 
 Except ye be converted, and become as little chil. 
 dren, ye mall not enter into the kingdom of Heaven. 
 
 Matt, xviii. 3. 
 
 D 
 
 EAR Soul, couldft thou become a child 
 While yet on earth, meek, undefiled, 
 Then God Himfelf were ever near, 
 And Paradife around thee here. 
 
 A child cares nought for gold or treafure, 
 Nor fame nor glory yield him pleafure; 
 In perfect truft, he afketh not 
 If rich or poor mail be his lot. 
 
 Little he recks of dignity, 
 Nor prince nor monarch feareth he; 
 Strange that a child fo weak and fmall 
 Is oft the boldeft of us all! 
 
 He hath not fkill to utter lies, 
 His very foul is in his eyes; 
 Single his aim in all, and true, 
 And apt to praife what others do. 
 
 No queftions dark his fpirit vex, 
 No faithlefs doubts his foul perplex, 
 Simply from day to day he lives, 
 Content with what the prefent gives. 
 
Cnra Germanica. 
 
 Scarce can he fland alone, far lefs 
 Would roam abroad in lonelinefs; 
 Fail clinging to his mother flill, 
 She bears and leads him at her will. 
 
 He will not flay to paufe and choofe, 
 His Father's guidance e'er refufe, 
 Thinks not of danger, fears no harm, 
 Wrapt in obedience' holy calm. 
 
 For ftrange concerns he careth nought; 
 What others do, although were wrought 
 Before his eyes the worfl offence, 
 Stains not his tranquil innocence. 
 
 His dearefl work, his belt delight, 
 Is, lying in his mother's light, 
 To gaze forever on her face, 
 And neflle in her fond embrace. 
 
 O childhood's innocence! the voice 
 Of thy deep wifdom is my choice ! 
 Who hath thy lore is truly wife, 
 And precious in our Father's eyes. 
 
 Spirit of childhood! loved of God, 
 By Jefus' Spirit now bellowed; 
 How often have I long'd for thee; 
 O Jefus, form Thyfelf in me ! 
 
 And help me to become a child 
 While yet on earth, meek, undefiled, 
 That I may find God always near,. 
 And Paradife around me here. 
 
 Gerhardt Tersteegen. 1731. 
 
2 4 £,$va ®^rmanua. 
 
 SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS DAY. 
 
 Behold a Virgin fhall be with child, and (hall bring 
 forth a Son, and they fhall call his name Emmanuel, 
 which being interpreted is, God with us. 
 
 From the Gospel. 
 
 THEE, O Immanuel, we praife, 
 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 faints, Thee, Lord, we ling, 
 Praife, honour, thanks to Thee we bring, 
 That Thou, O long-expected gueft, 
 Haft come at laft to make us bleft! 
 
 E'er fince 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 fhame ; 
 That help from Zion came to men, 
 Ifrael were glad, and profper'd then!" 
 
Cgra Germanica, 
 
 25 
 
 Now art Thou here; we know Thee now 
 In lowly manger lieft Thou ; 
 A child, yet makeft all things great, 
 Poor, yet is earth Thy robe of flate. 
 
 All heavens are Thine, yet Thou dofl come 
 To fojourn in a Granger's home; 
 Thou hangeft on Thy mother's breaft 
 Who art the joy of ipirits bleft. 
 
 Now fearlefs I can look on Thee, 
 From fin and grief Thou fett'ft me free ; 
 Thou beareft wrath, Thou conquerefl 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 flrength would flill 
 Serve Thee according to Thy will. 
 
 Thus will I ling Thy praifes here 
 With joyful fpirit year by year; 
 And they fhall found before Thy throne, 
 Where time nor number more are known. 
 
 Paul Gerhardt. 1650. 
 
 
26 
 
 Cyra ©armanua. 
 
 THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST. 
 
 Hymn for New Year's Day, 
 
 So teach us to number our days that we may apply 
 our hearts unto wifdom. — Psalm xc. 12. 
 
 ETERNITY! Eternity! 
 How long art thou, Eternity ! 
 And yet to thee Time haftes away, 
 Like as the warhorfe to the fray, 
 Or fwift as couriers homeward go, 
 Or fhip to port, or fhaft from bow. 
 Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 
 
 Eternity! Eternity! 
 How long art thou, Eternity! 
 For even as on a perfect fphere 
 End nor beginning can appear, 
 Even fo, 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 outward bound, 
 
 For never end therein is found. 
 
 Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 
 
€ma ©mncmica. 
 
 27 
 
 Eternity! Eternity! 
 
 How long art thou, Eternity! 
 
 A little bird with fretting beak 
 
 Might wear to nought the loftieft peak, 
 
 Though but each thoufand years it came, 
 
 Yet thou wert then, as now, the fame. 
 
 Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 
 
 Eternity! Eternity! 
 How long art thou, Eternity ! 
 As long as God is God, fo long 
 Endure the pains of hell and wrong, 
 So long the joys of heaven remain; 
 Oh kiting joy, Oh lafting pain! 
 Ponder, O Man, Eternity ! 
 
 Eternity! Eternity! 
 
 How long art thou, Eternity ! 
 
 O Man, full oft thy thoughts mould dwell 
 
 Upon the pains of fin 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 goodnefs fheddeth gladnefs here, 
 His juftice there wakes bitter fear. 
 Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 
 
28 
 
 fgra Qknnanka. 
 
 Eternity! Eternity! 
 How long art thou, Eternity! 
 They who lived poor and naked reft 
 With God for ever rich and bleft, . 
 And love and praife the higheft good, 
 In perfect blifs and gladfome mood. 
 Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 
 
 Eternity! Eternity! 
 How long art thou, Eternity ! 
 A moment lafts all joy below, 
 Whereby man finks to endlefs woe, 
 A moment lafts all earthly pain, 
 Whereby an endlefs joy we gain. 
 Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 
 
 Eternity ! Eternity ! 
 
 How long art thou, Eternity ! 
 
 Who ponders oft on thee is wife, 
 
 All flelhly lufts fliall he defpife, 
 
 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 fay to God, 
 
 Here,* judge, burn, fmite me with Thy rod, 
 
 Here, let me all Thy juftice bear, 
 
 When time of grace is paft, then fpare ! 
 
 Ponder, O Man, Eternity ! 
 
Cjira ©wrmaima. 29 
 
 Eternity! Eternity! 
 
 How long art thou, Eternity! 
 
 Lo, I, Eternity, warn thee, 
 
 O Man, that oft thou think on me, 
 
 The finner's punifhment and pain, 
 
 To them who love their God, rich gain! 
 
 Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 
 
 Wulffer. 1648. 
 
30 
 
 Cgra (Jkrmantca. 
 
 EPIPHANY. 
 
 Arife, fhine, for thy light is come, and the glory oi 
 the Lord is rifen upon thee I — From the Lesson, 
 
 ALL ye Gentile lands awake! 
 Thou, O Salem, rife and mine! 
 See the day-fpring o'er you break, 
 Heralding a morn divine, 
 Telling, God hath call'd to mind 
 Thofe who long in darknefs pined. 
 
 Lo ! the fhadows flee away, 
 
 For our Light is come at length, 
 
 Brighter than all earthly day, 
 
 Source of being, life, and ftrength ! 
 
 Whofo on this Light would gaze 
 
 Muft forsake all evil ways. 
 
 Ah how blindly did we ftray 
 Ere fhone forth this glorious Sun, 
 
 Seeking each his feparate way, 
 
 Leaving Heaven unfought, unwon ; 
 
 All our looks were earthwards bent, 
 
 All our ftrength on earth was fpent. 
 
 Earthly were our thoughts and low, 
 In the toils of Folly caught, 
 
Cum Germanica, 
 
 3i 
 
 Tofs'd of Satan to and fro, 
 
 Counting goodnefs all for nought ; 
 By the world and flelh deceived, 
 Heaven's true joys we difbelieved. 
 
 Then were hidden from our eyes 
 All the law and grace of God ; 
 
 SmaD and great, the fools and wife, 
 Wanting light to find the road 
 
 Leading to the heavenly life, 
 
 Wander'd loft in care and ftrife. 
 
 But the glory of the Lord 
 
 Hath arifen on us to day ! 
 We have feen the light outpour'd 
 
 That muft furely drive away 
 Ail things that to night belong, 
 All the fad earth's woe and wrong. 
 
 Thy arifing, Lord, fhall fill 
 
 All my thoughts in forrow's hour ; 
 
 Thy arifing, Lord, fhall ftill 
 
 All my dread of Death's dark power: 
 
 Through my fmiles and through my tears 
 
 Still Thy light, O Lord, appears. 
 
 Let me, Lord, in peace depart 
 
 From this evil world to Thee 
 Where thyfelf fole Brightnefs art, 
 
 Thou haft kept a place for me : 
 In the radiant city there 
 Crowns of light Thy faints fhall wear. 
 
 Rist. 1655 
 
3* iCgra Germanica. 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 I befeech ye therefore, brethren, by the mercies of 
 God, that ye prefent your bodies a living facrifice, 
 holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reafonable 
 fervice. — From the Epistle. 
 
 G 
 
 REAT High-prieft, who deigndft to be 
 Once the facrifice for me, 
 Take this living heart of mine, 
 Lay it on Thy holy fhrine. 
 
 Love I know accepteth nought, 
 
 Save what Thou, O Love, haft wrought ; 
 
 Offer Thou my facrifice, 
 
 Elfe to God it cannot rife. 
 
 Slay in me the wayward will, 
 Earthly fenfe and pafnon kill, 
 Tear felf-love from out my heart, 
 Though it coft me bitter finart. 
 
 Kindle, mighty Love, the pyre, 
 Quick confume me in thy fire, 
 Fain were I of felf bereft, 
 Nought but Thee within me left. 
 
 So may God the Righteous brook 
 On my facrifice to look; 
 In whofe fight no gift has worth 
 Save a Chrift-like life on earth. 
 
 Angelus. i 65 7. 
 
JEnrct (Btxmanxta, 
 
 33 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 Lift up your eyes unto the heavens, and look upon 
 the earth beneath ; for the heavens fhall vanifh away 
 like fmoke, and the earth fhall wax old like a garment, 
 and the people that dwell therein fhall die in like man- 
 ner ; but my falvation fhall be forever, and my right- 
 eoufnefs fhall not be abolifhed. — From the Lesson. 
 
 GOD liveth ever ! 
 Wherefore, Soul, defpair 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, 
 Eafier 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, defpair thou never ! 
 
 Say, fhall He flumber, fhall He fleep, 
 
 Who gave the eye its power to fee ? 
 
 Shall He not hear His children weep 
 
 Who made the ear fo wondroufly? 
 
 God is God; He fees and hears 
 
 All their troubles, all their tears. 
 
 Soul, forget not 'mid thy pains, 
 
 God o'er all for ever reigns. 
 3* 
 
34 Cgra ©mnanica. 
 
 God liveth ever! 
 Wherefore, Soul, defpair thou never ! 
 He who can earth and heaven control, 
 
 Who fpreads the clouds o'er fea and land, 
 Whofe prefence fills the mighty Whole, 
 In each true heart is clofe at hand. 
 
 Love Him, He will iürely fend 
 Help and joy that never end. 
 Soul, remember in thy pains, 
 God o'er all for ever reigns. 
 
 God liveth ever ! 
 Wherefore, Soul, defpair thou never ! 
 Scarce canft thou bear thy crofs? Then fly 
 
 To Him where only reft is fweet; 
 Thy God is great, His mercy nigh, 
 His ftrength upholds the tottering feet. 
 
 Truft Him, for His grace is fure, 
 Ever doth His truth endure; 
 Soul, forget not in thy pains, 
 God o'er all for ever reigns. 
 
 God liveth ever! 
 O my Soul, defpair thou never ! 
 When fins and follies long forgot 
 
 Upon thy tortured conscience prey, 
 O come to God, and fear Him not, 
 His love fhall fweep them all away. 
 Pains of hell at look of His, 
 Change to calm« content and blifi. 
 Soul, forget not in thy pain, 
 God o'er all doth ever reign. 
 
&Qxa <8>rnnamca. 55 
 
 God liveth ever! 
 Wherefore, Soul, defpair thou never! 
 Thofe whom the thoughtlefs world forfakes, 
 
 Who Hand bewilder'd with their woe, 
 God gently to His bofom takes, 
 
 And bids them all His fulnefs know. 
 In thy forrows' fwelling flood 
 Own His hand who feeks thy good. 
 Soul, forget not in thy pains, 
 God o'er all for ever reigns. 
 
 God liveth ever ! 
 Wherefore, Soul, defpair thou never ! 
 Let earth and heaven outworn with age, 
 Sink to the chaos whence they came; 
 Let angry foes againft us rage, 
 
 Let hell moot forth his fierceft flame; 
 
 Fear not Death, nor Satan's thrufts, 
 God defends who in Him trufts ; 
 Soul, remember in thy pains, 
 God o'er all for ever reigns. 
 
 God liveth ever ! 
 Wherefore, Soul, defpair thou never! 
 What though thou tread with bleeding feet 
 
 A thorny path of grief and gloom, 
 Thy God will choofe the way moft meet 
 To lead thee heavenwards, lead thee home. 
 For this life's long night of fadnefs 
 He will give thee peace and gladneß. 
 Soul, forget not in thy pains, 
 God o'er all for ever reigns. 
 
 Zihn. 1682 
 
*6 Cgra Germanica. 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY, 
 
 For as the rain cometh down, and the fnow from 
 heaven ; and returneth not thither, but watereth the 
 earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may 
 give feed to the fower, and bread to the eater : fo fhall 
 my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth : it (hall 
 not return unto me void, but it fhall accomplish that 
 which I pleafe, and it fhall profper in the thing where- 
 to I fent it. — From the Lesson. 
 
 THY Word, O Lord, like gentle dews. 
 Falls foft on hearts that pine; 
 Lord, to Thy garden ne'er refufe 
 
 This heavenly balm of Thine. 
 Water'd from Thee 
 Let every tree 
 Bud forth and bloflbm to Thy praife, 
 And bear much fruit in after days. 
 
 Thy Word is like a flaming fword, 
 
 A wedge that cleaveth flone; 
 Keen as a fire fo burns Thy Word, 
 And pierceth flefh and bone. 
 Let it go forth 
 O'er all the earth, 
 To purify all hearts within, . 
 And matter all the might of fin. 
 
&ma Germanica 
 
 37 
 
 Thy Word a wondrous guiding liar, 
 
 On pilgrim herts doth rife, 
 Leads to their Lord who dwell afar, 
 And makes the fimple wife. 
 Let not its light 
 E'er link in night, 
 But Hill in every fpirit Ihine, 
 That none may mifs Thy light divine. 
 
 Anon. 
 
3 s £gra (germanica, 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 And he faith unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of 
 little faith ? Then he arofe and rebuked the winds 
 and the fea, and there was a great calm. — From thb 
 Gospel. 
 
 MY God ! lo here before Thy face 
 I caft me in the dull ; 
 Where is the hope of happier days, 
 Where is my wonted trull ? 
 Where are the fiinny hours I had 
 
 Ere of Thy light bereft? 
 Vanifh'd is all that made me glad, 
 My pain alone is left. 
 
 I ihrink with fear and fore alarm 
 
 When threatening ills I fee, 
 As in mine hour of need Thine arm 
 
 No more could fhelter me; 
 As though Thou couldfl not fee the grief 
 
 That makes my courage quail, 
 As though Thou wouldfl not fend relief, 
 
 When human helpers fail. 
 
 Cannot Thy might avert e'en now 
 
 What feems my certain doom, 
 And ilill with light and fuccour bow 
 
 To him who weeps in gloom? 
 
jügra (Bfermanica. 
 
 39 
 
 Art Thou not evermore the fame? 
 
 Haft not Thyfelf revealed 
 In Holy Writ, that we may claim 
 
 Thee for our flrength and fhield? 
 
 Father, compafs me about 
 With love, for I am weak; 
 
 Forgive, forgive my fmful doubt, 
 
 Thy pitying glance I feek; 
 For torn and anguiih'd is my heart, 
 
 Thou feeft it, my God, 
 Oh foothe my confcience' bitter fmart, 
 
 Lift off my forrows' load. 
 
 1 know Thy thoughts are peace toward me, 
 
 Safe am I in Thy hands, 
 Could I but firmly build on Thee, 
 
 For fure Thy counfel (lands! 
 Whate'er Thy Word hath promifed, all 
 
 Wilt Thou full furely give; 
 Wherefore from Thee I will not fall, 
 
 Thy Word doth make me live. 
 
 Though mountains crumble into dull, 
 
 Thy covenant ftandeth faft ; 
 Who follows Thee in pious truft, 
 
 Shall reach the goal at laft. 
 Though ftrange and winding feem the way 
 
 While yet on earth I dwell, 
 In heaven my heart fhall gladly fay, 
 
 Thou, God, doft all things well! 
 
4-o Cjjra (Sfermmuco. 
 
 Take courage then, my foul, nor fleep 
 
 Thy days and nights in tears, 
 Soon fhalt thou ceafe to mourn and weep, 
 
 Though dark are now thy fears. 
 He comes, He comes, the Strong to fave, 
 
 He comes nor tarries more, 
 His light is breaking o'er the wave, 
 The cloudä and ilorms are o'er. 
 
 Drewes. 1797 
 
FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 Oh that Thou wouldeft rend the heavens, that Thou 
 wouldeft come down, that the mountains might flow 
 down at Thy prefence . . . To make Thy name known 
 to Thine adverfaries, that the nations may tremble at 
 Thy prefence. — From the Lesson. 
 
 AWAKE, Thou Spirit, who of old 
 Didft fire the watchmen of the Church's 
 youth, 
 Who faced the foe, unfhrinking, bold, 
 Who witnefs'd day and night the eternal truth, 
 Whofe voices through the world are ringing ftill, 
 And bringing holts to know and do Thy will! 
 
 Oh that Thy fire were kindled foon, 
 That fwift from land to land its flame might leap ! 
 
 Lord, give us but this pricelefs boon 
 Of faithful fervants, fit for Thee to reap 
 The harveft of the foul ; look down and view 
 How great the harveft, yet the labourers few. 
 
 Lord, let our earneft prayer be heard, 
 The prayer Thy Son Himfelf hath bid us pray ; 
 
 For lo ! Thy children's hearts are ftirr'd 
 In every land in this our darkening day, 
 To cry for help with fervent foul to Thee, 
 Oh hear us, Lord, and fpeak, Thus let it be! 
 
4 2 Cgra ©armamra. 
 
 Oh hafte to help ere we are loft ! 
 Send forth evangelifts, in fpirit ftrong, 
 
 Arm'd with Thy Word, a dauntlefs hoft, 
 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 promifed Spirit come again, 
 
 Before whom every barrier falls, 
 And ere the night once more fhine forth as then! 
 Oh rend the heavens and make Thy prefence felt, 
 The chains that bind us at Thy touch would melt ! 
 
 And let Thy Word have fpeedy 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 Ifrael from her fleep, O Lord! 
 Thus blefs and fpread the conquefts of Thy Word ! 
 
 The Church's defert paths reftore, 
 And ftumbling-blocks that long in them have lain, 
 
 Hinder Thy Word henceforth no more; 
 Deftroy falfe doctrine, root out notions vain, 
 Set free from hirelings, let the Church and fchool 
 Bloom as a garden 'neath Thy profpering rule ! 
 
 BOGATZKY. I727. 
 
Cgra (ßfermamca. 
 
 43 
 
 SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 
 
 Every man that hath this hope in him purifieth him- 
 felf even as He is pure. — From the Epistle. 
 
 PURE Eflence! Spotlefs Fount of Light, 
 That fadeth never into dark ! 
 O Thou, whofe eyes, more clear and bright 
 Than noonday fun, are quick to mark 
 Our fins; lo, bare before Thy face 
 Lies all the defert of my heart, 
 My once fair foul in every part 
 Now ftain'd with evil foul and bafe. 
 
 Since but the pure in heart are bleft, 
 
 With promifed vifion of their God, 
 Sore fear and anguifh fill my breaft, 
 
 Remembering all the ways I trod; 
 Mourning I fee my loft eftate, 
 
 And yet in faith I dare to cry, 
 
 O 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 fnares I flee. 
 
 
44 Cgra ©armanira. 
 
 Lord, through the Spirit whom Thy Son 
 Hath bidden us in prayer to afk, 
 Arm us with might that every talk, 
 
 Whate'er we do, in Thee be done. 
 
 Unworthy am I of Thy grace, 
 
 So deep are my tranfgreflions, Lord, 
 
 And yet once more I feek Thy face; 
 My God, have mercy, nor reward 
 
 My deepen'd fins, my follies vain; 
 Reject, reject me not in wrath, 
 But let Thy funfhine now beam forth, 
 
 And quicken me with hope again. 
 
 The Holy Spirit Thou haft given, 
 The wondrous pledge of love divine, 
 
 Who fills our hearts with joys of heaven, 
 And bids us earthly toys refign; 
 
 O let His feal be on my heart, 
 O take Him never more away, 
 Until this flefhly houfe decay, 
 
 And Thou fhalt bid me hence depart. 
 
 But ah! my coward fpirit droops, 
 Sick with the fear that enters in 
 
 Whene'er a foul to bondage ftoops, 
 And wears the fhameful yoke of fin; 
 
 Oh quicken with the ftrength that flows 
 From forth the Eternal Fount of Life, 
 My foul half-fainting in the ftrife, 
 
 And make an end of all my woes. 
 
£ma Germanica. 45 
 
 I cling unto Thy grace alone, 
 
 Thy fteadfaft oath my only re/t; 
 To Thee, Heart-fearcher, all is krown 
 
 That lieth hidden in my breaft ; 
 Thy gladnefs, Spirit, on me pour, 
 
 Thy ready will my floth infpire, 
 
 So fhall I have my heart's defire, 
 And ferve and praife Thee evermore. 
 
 Freylinghausen. 171 3. 
 
4-6 Cüra ©ermanica. 
 
 SEPTUAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 I therefore fo run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, 
 not as one that beateth the air. — From the Epistle. 
 
 STRIVE, when thou art call'd of God, 
 When He draws thee by His grace, 
 Strive to caft away the load 
 That would clog thee in the race ! 
 
 Fight, though it may coil thy life, 
 Storm the kingdom, but prevail, 
 
 Let not Satan's fierceft ftrife 
 
 Make thee, warrior, faint or quail. 
 
 Wreftle, till through every vein 
 
 Love and ftrength are glowing warm, 
 
 Love, that can the world difdain, 
 Half-love will not bide the ftorm. 
 
 Wreftle, with ftrong prayers and cries, 
 Think no time too much to fpend, 
 
 Though the night be pafs'd in fighs, 
 Though all day thy voice afcend. 
 
 Haft thou won the pearl of price, 
 Think not thou haft reach'd the goal, 
 
 Conquer'd every fin and vice 
 
 That had power to harm thy foul. 
 
Cyrct (£m*mamca. 47 
 
 Gaze with mingled joy and fear 
 
 On the refuge thou haft 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 tempeft blows, 
 Only care to win the fight. 
 
 Art thou faithful ? Wake and watch, 
 Love with all thy heart Chrift's ways, 
 
 Seek not tranfient eafe to fnatch, 
 Look not for reward or praife. 
 
 Art thou faithful? Stand apart 
 From all worldly hope and pleafure, 
 
 Yonder fix your hopes, and heart, 
 
 On the heaven where lies our treafure. 
 
 Soldiers of the Crofs, be ftrong, 
 Watch and war 'mid fear and pain, 
 
 Daily conquering woe and wrong, 
 Till our King o'er earth mail reign ! 
 
 Winkler. 1703, 
 
Cgra ©armanica. 
 
 SEXAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 Let them praife the name of the Lord, for His name 
 alone is excellent; His glory is above the earth and 
 heaven. — Psalm cxlviii. 13. 
 
 NOTHING fair on earth I fee 
 But I ftraightway think on Thee ; 
 Thou art faireft in my eyes, 
 Source in whom all beauty lies ! 
 
 When I fee the reddening dawn 
 And the golden fun of morn, 
 Quickly turns this heart of mine 
 To Thy glorious form divine. 
 
 Oft I think upon Thy light 
 When the grey morn breaks the night; 
 Think, what glories lie in Thee, 
 Light of all Eternity ! 
 
 When I fee the moon arife 
 'Mid Heaven's thoufand golden eyes, 
 Then I think, more glorious far 
 Is the Maker of yon flar. 
 
 Or I think in fpring's fweet hours, 
 When the fields are gay with flowers, 
 As their varied hues I fee, 
 What mult their Creator be! 
 
Cnra (Eu'mamca. 49 
 
 When along the brook I wander, 
 
 Or befide the fountain ponder, 
 
 Straight my thoughts take wing and mount 
 
 Up to Thee, the pureft Fount. 
 
 Sweetly fings the nightingale, 
 Sweet the flute's foft plaintive tale, 
 Sweeter than their richeft tone, 
 Is the name of Mary's Son. 
 
 Sweetly all the air is ftirr'd 
 When the Echo's call is heard; 
 But no founds my heart rejoice 
 Like to my Beloved's voice. 
 
 Come then, faireft Lord, appear, 
 Come, let me behold Thee here, 
 I would fee Thee face to face, 
 On Thy proper light would gaze. 
 
 Take away thefe veils that blind, 
 Jefus, all my foul and mind; 
 Henceforth ever let my heart 
 See Thee truly as Thou art ! 
 
 Angelus. 1657. 
 
5° Cgra (Gfermanua. 
 
 QUINQUAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 And now abideth faith, hope, chanty, thefe three ; 
 but the greateft of thefe is chanty. — From the Epis- 
 
 tle. 
 
 MANY a gift did Christ impart, 
 Noblefl of them all is Love; 
 Love, a balm within the heart 
 That can all its pains remove; 
 Love, a ftar moil bright and pure; 
 Love, a gem of pricelefs worth, 
 Richer than man knows on earth; 
 Love, like beauty, ftrong to lure; 
 Love, like joy, makes man her thrall, 
 Strong to pleafe and conquer all. 
 
 Love can give us all things ; here 
 
 Ufe and beauty cannot fever; 
 Love can raife us to that fphere 
 
 Whence the foul tends heavenwards ever; 
 Though one fpake with angel tongues 
 
 Braveft words of frrength and fire, 
 
 If no love his heart infpire, 
 They are but as fleeting fongs; 
 All his eloquence mail pafs, 
 As the noife of founding brafs. 
 
Cgra Germanica. 5 1 
 
 Keen-eyed fcience' fearching glance, 
 
 All the wifdom of the world, 
 Myileries that the foul entrance, 
 
 Faith that mighty hills had hurPd 
 From their ancient feats; — all this, 
 Wherein man takes molt his pride, 
 Valuelefs is caft afide, 
 If the fpirit there we mifs, 
 That can work from love alone, 
 Not from pride in what is known. 
 
 Though I laviüYd all I have 
 
 On the poor in charity; 
 Though I fhrank not from the grave, 
 
 Or unmoved the flake could fee; 
 Though my body here were given 
 To the all-confuming flame; 
 If my mind were Hill the fame, 
 Meeter were I not for heaven, 
 Till by Love my works were crown'd, 
 Till in Love my ftrength were found. 
 
 Faith muft conquer, hope muft bloom, 
 
 As our onward way we wend, 
 Elfe we came not through the gloom, 
 
 But with earth they alfo end. 
 Thou, O Love, doft ftretch afar 
 Through the wide eternity, 
 And the foul array'd in Thee 
 Shines for ever as a ftar. 
 Faith and hope mull: pafs away, 
 Thou, O Love, endured aye. 
 
S 2 Cgrct ©crmanica. 
 
 Come, Thou Spirit of pure Love, 
 
 Who doft forth from God proceed, 
 Never from my heart remove, 
 
 Let me all Thy impulfe heed; 
 All that feeks felf-profit first, 
 Rather than another's good, 
 Whether foe or link'd in blood, 
 Let me hold fuch thought accurfl; 
 And my heart henceforward be 
 Ruled, infpired, O Love, by Thee! 
 
 Ernst Lange, i 7 1 i 
 
Cgra (germanica. 53 
 
 QUINQUAGESIMA SUNDAY. 
 
 And Jesus faid unto him, Receive thy Tight; thy 
 faith hath faved thee. And immediately he received 
 his fight, and followed him, glorifying God. — From 
 the Gospel. 
 
 M 
 
 Y Saviour, what Thou didft of old, 
 When Thou wail dwelling here, 
 Thou doeft yet for them, who bold 
 In faith to Thee draw near. 
 As Thou hädft pity on the blind, 
 
 According to Thy Word, 
 Thou fufferedfl me Thy grace to find, 
 Thy Light haft on me pour'd. 
 
 Mourning I fat befide the way, 
 
 In fightlefs gloom apart, 
 And fadnefs heavy on me lay, 
 
 And longing gnaw'd my heart; 
 I heard the mufic of the pfalms 
 
 Thy people fang to Thee, 
 I felt the waving of their palms, 
 
 And yet I could not fee. 
 
 My pain grew more than I could bear, 
 
 Too keen my grief became, 
 Then I took heart in my defpair 
 
 To call upon Thy name; 
 
54 £gra ©ermamca. 
 
 "O Son of David, fave and heal, 
 As Thou fo oft hall done ! 
 
 deareft Jefus, let me feel 
 My load of darknefs gone." 
 
 And ever weeping as I fpoke 
 
 With bitter prayers and fighs, 
 My ftony heart grew foft and broke, 
 
 More earnefl yet my cries. 
 A fudden anfwer Itill'd my fear, 
 
 For it was faid to me, 
 " O poor blind man, be of good cheer, 
 
 Rejoice, He calleth thee." 
 
 1 felt, Lord, that Thou ftoodeft Hill, 
 
 Groping Thy feet I fought, 
 From off me fell my old felf-will, 
 
 A change came o'er my thought. 
 Thou faidft, "What is it Thou wouldft have?* 
 
 "Lord, that I might have fight; 
 To lee Thy countenance I crave:" 
 
 "So be it, have thou Light." 
 
 And words of Thine can never fail, 
 
 My fears are paft and o'er; 
 My foul is glad with light, the veil 
 
 Is on my heart no more. 
 Thou blelTelt me, and forth I fare 
 
 Free from my old difgrace, 
 And follow on with joy where'er 
 
 Thy footfteps, Lord, I trace. 
 
 De la Mothe Fouotje* 
 
&QVCL (Hwmamca. 55 
 
 ASH WEDNESDAY. 
 
 Gather the people . . and let the priefts, the minifters 
 of the Lord, weep between the porch and the altar, and 
 let them fay, Spare Thy people, O Lord. — From THB 
 Passage for the Epistle. 
 
 NOT in anger finite us, Lord, 
 Spare Thy people, fpare ! 
 If Thou mete us due reward 
 
 We muft all defpair. 
 Let the flood 
 Of Jefus' blood 
 Quench the flaming of Thy wrath, 
 That our fin enkindled hath. 
 
 Father ! Thou haft patience long 
 
 With the fick and weak; 
 Heal us, make us brave and ftrong, 
 Words of comfort fpeak. 
 Touch my foul, 
 And make me whole 
 With Thy healing precious balm; 
 Ward ofl" all. would work me harm. 
 
 Weary am I, Lord, and worn 
 
 With my ceafelefs pain ; 
 Sad the heart that night and morn 
 
 Sighs for help in vain. 
 
5 6 Cgra ©ermamca. 
 
 Wilt Thou yet 
 
 My foul forget, 
 Waiting anxioufly for Thee 
 In the cave of mifery ? 
 
 Hence, ye foes! God hears my prayei 
 
 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 mock'd and fought my fall. 
 
 Albinus. 1652. 
 
£m-a (Germanica. 57 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 Then was J^fus led up of the Spirit into the wilder- 
 nefs to be tempted of the devil. And he farted forty 
 days and forty nights. — From the Gospel. 
 
 AM I a ftranger here, on earth alone, 
 When fhali my weary days be paft and 
 
 gone ? 
 When fhall I find fome refpite, fome relief 
 From this unileeping pain, this haunting grief? 
 
 The joyful fun another morning brings, 
 I only wake to feel care's piercing flings ; 
 The foft moon comes with filent night and fleep, 
 And bringeth nought to me but time to weep. 
 
 My heart and confcience forely wounded lie, 
 Struck by the arrows of Thy wrath, Moft High! 
 From morn till eventide where'er I flee, 
 I find no hiding-place, great God, from Thee! 
 
 O Lord, be not fo flricl: to mark my crimes ! 
 Great God, dofl Thou remember yet thofe times 
 Of fooliih thoughtlefTnefs, when blind and young 
 My heart to this world's vain delights ftill clung? 
 
 Wilt Thou then alway bear my fins in mind ? 
 
 What offering, what atonement can I find ! 
 
 4* 
 
s 8 Cjira ©mnamca. 
 
 Nought have I of mine own but fin and wrong, 
 Mer :y and love, O Lord, to Thee belong ! 
 
 Oh therefore leave me not the wretched prey 
 
 Of thofe who feek to take my life away ! 
 
 Yet though with ftreaming eyes to Thee I cry, 
 
 No anfwering voice comes from Thy throne on higii 
 
 Vain are my tears and prayers, vain all my woe, 
 While Thou doft fight againft me as a foe; 
 The zeal of Thy juft anger and Thy might 
 Have plunged my foul in blackeft depths of night, 
 
 fit alone ; with tears I bathe my cheeks, 
 With bitter fighs and groans my fpirit feeks 
 For Him, who veils behind the clouds His face, 
 And hears not, as of old in happier days. 
 
 Oh that I had a dove's fwift wings ! I'd fly 
 Away to fome far mountain, lone and high; 
 Yet could I not efcape His mighty hand 
 Before whom all things bare and open ftand. 
 
 Nay, rather let me fuffer all His will, 
 Though His fierce anger beat upon me ftill, 
 A willing heart and patient mind, O God 1 
 I bring to Thy fevere but righteous rod. 
 
 Much have I finn'd, I perifh utterly 
 
 If my mifdeeds be all avenged of Thee ; 
 
 Yet, Lord of Hofts, doth not Thy Word proclaim.. 
 
 The Merciful is Thy moll glorious name! 
 
 Raisner. 1678. 
 
£t)ra (germanica. 59 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY IN LENT, 
 
 And the difciples faid, Send her away, for (he crieth 
 after us ; • . . But He faid, Great is thy faith, be it unto 
 thee even as thou wilt. — From the Gospel. 
 
 I WILL not let Thee go ; Thou Help in 
 time of need ! 
 Heap ill on ill 
 I trull Thee füll, 
 E'en when it feems as Thou wouldft flay 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; ihould I forfake my blifs? 
 No, Lord, Thou'rt mine, 
 And I am Thine, 
 Thee will I hold when all things elfe I miß 
 Though dark and fad the night, 
 Joy cometh with Thy light, 
 
 Thou my Sun; fhould I forfake my blifs r • 
 
 I will not let Thee go ! . 
 
 1 will not let Thee go, my God, my Life, my Lord ! 
 
 Not Death can tear 
 Me from His care, 
 Who for mv fake His foul in death outpour'd. 
 
6o fgra (Qfermatwa. 
 
 Thou diedft for love to me, 
 I fay in love to Thee, 
 E'en when my heart fhall break, my God, my Life, 
 my Lord, 
 I will not let Thee go ! 
 
 Deszler. 1692. 
 
£gra (Ewnianica. 6l 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 Awake, thou that fleepeft, and arife from the dead, 
 and Chrift (hall give thee light. — Fp^om the Epistle. 
 
 AWAKE, O man, and from thee make 
 This heavy fleep of fin ! 
 Soon fhall the Higheft vengeance take, 
 Soon fhall His wrath begin 
 To fmite the wretched fmner home; 
 In awful terrors He fhall come, 
 To mete to all on earth their due reward, 
 Only the righteous fpares our angry Lord. 
 
 Come then, ye finners, great and fmall, 
 
 Weeping and mourning fore, 
 Low down before His footftool fall, 
 And vow to fin no more. 
 In faith and godlinefs array 
 Your fouls againft that final day, 
 So fhall ye 'fcape His wrath, and blefTed die, 
 Heirs of the kingdom with your Lord on high. 
 
 O lay to heart this wondrous thought, 
 
 Through what fore agony 
 And death was your redemption bought, 
 
 And to your Saviour flee 
 
62 Cgrct (famnanka. 
 
 Ere yet too late; the world difown, 
 
 And fix your love on Chrift alone, 
 And do His will; for at the final doom, 
 Who here difhonour'd Him fhall wrath confume. 
 
 Turn Thou us, and we mail be turn'd; 
 
 Thou broughteft back of old 
 Thy ftraying people, when they yearn'd 
 After their proper fold: 
 Even fo, forgive what we have done, 
 Accept us in Thy bleffed Son, 
 Thy Holy Spirit ever be our guide, 
 That we may fpread Thy praifes far and wide ! 
 
 Crasselius. 1697. 
 
Cjjra ©armanica. 63 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY IN LENT. 
 
 Grant we befeech Thee, Almighty God, that we, 
 who for our evil deeds do worthily deferve to be pun- 
 ched, by the comfort of Thy grace may mercifully be 
 relieved ; through our Lord and Saviour, Jefus Chrift. — 
 From the Collect. 
 
 HERE, O my God, I caft me at Thy feet, 
 Ready to fuffer what Thou thinkeft meet J 
 Yet look on me, great God, with pitying 
 eyes, 
 Reward me not for mine iniquities ! 
 
 Too oft, alas ! my heart hath loved to ftray 
 Downward along Sin's broad and eafy way; 
 And worldly pride, and carnal lulls moil foul 
 Were ihamelefs cherifh'd in my inmoft foul. 
 
 Thy Majefty have I offended, Lord, 
 And fet at nought Thy law, Thy holy Word ; 
 I had not learnt Thy righteous wrath to dread, 
 Nor faw the vengeance gathering o'er mj head. 
 
 wretched man, what evil have I wrought! 
 Now in the fnares of Sin a captive caught, 
 
 1 learn, O Sin, how fell and keen thy fmart! 
 O wrath of God, how terrible thou art ! 
 
H Cj3ra (förrmanica. 
 
 Is there no way, can I no helper find, 
 Who can thefe heavy chains of fin unbind? 
 Can man nor creature fhow me any place, 
 Where I may flee and hide me from God's face? 
 
 Nay, I mull flee to God Himfelf, from whom 
 Our life and help, our hope and fafety come; 
 What all the world muft unaccomplifh'd leave, 
 Thou, for Thou art Almighty, canft achieve. 
 
 Think on the covenant Thou haft never broken, 
 Think on the fteadfaft oath Thyfelf haft fpoken ^ 
 Know that I am a God, Thy promife faith, 
 Who hath no pleafure in a fmner's death. 
 
 Then let the arms of love be round me thrown, 
 Have pity on me, hear my bitter moan, 
 Call back Thy fheep, that wandering far aftray, 
 Was loft in fin, nor knew its homeward way. 
 
 Grant me to rule my inner life aright, 
 And acl and fpeak as ever in Thy fight, 
 A friend to all true virtue, but a foe 
 To all Thou hateft, fins and follies low. 
 
 Thou Merciful! what thanks and praife fhall be 
 For Thy great goodnefs ofFer'd unto Thee, 
 As<is moft meet; while here my days I fpend, 
 And yonder in the world that fhall not end! 
 
 Anon. 
 
Cgra (Hfermamca. 65 
 
 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 amifs, O Lord, who may abid 
 it? — Psalm cxxx. i, 3. 
 
 O 
 
 UT of the depths I cry to Thee, 
 Lord God! oh hear my prayer 
 Incline a gracious ear to me, 
 And bid me not delpair : 
 If Thou rememberefl each mifdeed, 
 If each fhould have its rightful meed, 
 
 Lord, who fhall Hand before Thee ? 
 
 Lord, through Thy love alone we gain 
 
 The pardon of our fin; 
 The ftridteft life is but in vain, 
 
 Our works can nothing win, 
 That none fhould boaft himfelf of aught, 
 But own in fear Thy grace hath wrought 
 What in him feemeth righteous. 
 
 Wherefore my hope is in the Lord, 
 
 My works I count but dull, 
 I build not there, but on His word, 
 
 And in His goodnefs truft. 
 Up to His care myfelf I yield, 
 He is my tower, my rock, my fhield, 
 And for His help I tarry. 
 
66 Cgra (föcrmanira. 
 
 And though it tarry till the night, 
 
 And round again to morn, 
 My heart mall ne'er miftruft Thy might, 
 
 Nor count itfelf forlorn. 
 Do thus, O ye of Ifrael's feed, 
 Ye of the Spirit born indeed, 
 
 Wait for your God's appearing. 
 
 Though great our fins and fore our wounds, 
 
 And deep and dark our fall, 
 His helping mercy hath no bounds, 
 
 His love furpafseth all. 
 Our trufty loving Shepherd He, 
 Who fhall at.laft fet Ifrael free 
 
 From all their fin and forrow. 
 
 Luther. 1524. 
 
Cjjra Germanica. 6 7 
 
 PALM SUNDAY. 
 
 And the multitudes that went before, and that fol- 
 lowed, cried, faying, Hofanna to the Son of David ; 
 blefled is he that cometh in the name of the Lord ; 
 Hofanna in the higheft. — Matt. xxi. 9. 
 
 HOSANNA to the Son of David! Raife 
 Triumphal arches to His praife, 
 
 For Him prepare a throne 
 Who comes at la ft to Zion — to His own ! 
 Strew palms around, make plain and ftraight the 
 way, 
 For Him who His triumphal entry holds to-day ! 
 
 . Hofanna ! Welcome above all Thou art! 
 Make ready each to lay his heart 
 
 Low down before His feet ! 
 Come, let us haften forth our Lord to meet, 
 And bid Him enter in at Zion's gates, 
 Where thoufand- voiced welcome on His coming waits, 
 
 Hofanna ! Prince of Peace and Lord of Might ! 
 We hail Thee Conqueror in the fight. 
 
 All Thou with toil haft won, 
 Shall be our booty when the battle's done. 
 Thy right hand ever hath the rule and fway, 
 Thy kingdom ftandeth faft when all things eile decay. 
 
68 jTjn*a (Sarmamca. 
 
 Hofanna! beft-beloved and noble Guell! 
 Who made us by Thy high beheft 
 Heirs of Thy realm with Thee. 
 O let us therefore never weary be 
 To Hand and ferve before Thy righteous throne, 
 We know no king but Thee, rule Thou o'er us alone* 
 
 Hofanna! Come, the time draws on apace, 
 We long Thy mercy to embrace; 
 
 This fervant's form can ne'er 
 Conceal the majefty Thy ads declare: 
 Too well art Thou here in Thy Zion known, 
 Who art the Son of God, and yet art David's Son. 
 
 Hofanna ! Lord, be Thou our help and friend, 
 Thy aid to us in mercy fend, 
 
 That each may bring his foul 
 An offering unto Thee, unftain'd and whole. 
 Thou wilt have none for Thy difciples, Lord, 
 But who obey in truth, not only hear Thy word. 
 
 Hofanna ! Let us in Thy footfteps tread, 
 Nor that fad Mount of Olives dread 
 Where we mull weep and watch, 
 Until the far-off fong of joy we catch 
 From Heaven our Bethphage, where we fhall fing 
 Hofanna in the higher!: to our God and King ! 
 
 Hofanna ! Let us found it far and wide ! 
 Enter Thou in and here abide, 
 Thou BlefTed of the Lord ! 
 
Cgra (Germanica. ^9 
 
 Why Handelt Thou without, why roam'lt 
 abroad ? 
 Hofanna! Make Thy home with us for ever! 
 Thou comeft, Lord ! and nought us from Thy love 
 fhall fever. 
 
 Hallelujah. 
 
 SCHMOLCK. 1 704, 
 
7o £m*a ©crmanka. 
 
 MONDAY IN PASSION WEEK. 
 
 And when He was come near, He beheld the city, 
 a..d wept over it. — Luke xix. 41. 
 
 THOU weepeft o'er Jerufalem, 
 Lord Jefus, bitter tears ; 
 But deepeft comfort lies in them 
 
 For us, whofe fins have fill'd our fouls 
 with fears: 
 Since that they tell, 
 When finners turn to Thee Thou lov'ft it well, 
 And furely wilt efface, of Thy unbounded grace, 
 All the mifdeeds that on our confcience dwell. 
 
 When God's juft wrath and anger burn 
 
 Againfl me for my fin, 
 To thefe fad tears of Thine I turn, 
 
 And watching them frefh hope and courage win. 
 For God doth prize 
 Thefe drops fo greatly, that before His eyes 
 Who fprinkles o'er his foul with them is clean and 
 
 whole, 
 And from his forrows' depth new joy mall rife. 
 
 Earth is the home of tears and woe, 
 
 Where we mull often weep, 
 Fighting the world our mighty foe, 
 
 Whofe enmity to Thee doth never fleep. 
 
£m*a (Sformamca. 
 
 My heart is torn 
 Afrefh each day by her fierce rage and fcorn, 
 But in my faddeft hours, I think upon thofe fhowen 
 That tell how Thou haft all our forrows borne. 
 
 Thou counteft up my tears and fighs ; 
 
 E'en were they numberlefs. 
 Not one is hidden from Thine eyes, 
 Thou ne'er forgetteft me in my diftrefs, 
 But when they rain 
 Before Thee, Thou doft quickly turn again, 
 Haft pity on my woe, and makeft me to know 
 What fweeteft joy lies hid in foreft pain. 
 
 We fow in tears; but let us keep 
 
 Our faith in God, and truft Him ftill, 
 Yonder our harveft we fhall reap, 
 
 Where gladnefs every heart and mouth fhall fill 
 Such joy is there 
 No mortal tongue its glory can declare, 
 A joy that fhall endure, changelefs and deep and pure 
 That fhall be ours, if here the crofs we bear. 
 
 O Chrift, I thank Thee for Thy tears; 
 
 Thofe tears have won for me 
 That I fhall wear, through endlefs years, 
 A crown of joy before my God and Thee 
 All weeping o'er, 
 Up to Thy chofen faints I once fhall foar, 
 And there Thy pity praife, in more befitting la) s, 
 Thou Glory of Thy Church, for evermore. 
 
 Heermann. 1630. 
 
72 Cgra Germanica, 
 
 TUESDAY IN PASSION WEEK. 
 
 By the which will we are fanclified, through the offer- 
 ing of the body of Jefus Chrift once for all. — Heb. x. io. 
 
 L 
 
 ORD ! Thy death and paflion give 
 Strength and comfort at my need. 
 Every hour while here I live 
 On Thy love my foul fhall feed. 
 Doth fome evil thought upflart? 
 Lo, Thy crofs defends my heart, 
 Shows the peril, and I fhrink 
 Back from loitering on the brink. 
 
 Doth my carnal nature yearn 
 
 After wanton joys? again 
 Quickly to Thy crofs I turn, 
 
 And her voice is heard in vain. 
 Cometh ftrong temptation's hour, 
 When my foe puts forth his power ? 
 Shelter'd by this holy fnield, 
 Soon I drive him from the field. 
 
 Would the world my fteps entice 
 To yon wide and level road, 
 
 FilPd with mirth and pleafant vice ? 
 Lord, I think upon the load 
 
£m*a ©ermanica. 73 
 
 Thou didft once for me endure, 
 And I fly all thoughts impure; 
 Thinking on Thy bitter pains, 
 Hufh'd in prayer my heart remains. 
 
 Yes, Thy crofs hath power to heal 
 All the wounds of fin and ftrife, 
 
 Loft in Thee my' heart doth feel 
 Sudden warmth and nobler life. 
 
 In my faddeft, darkeft grief, 
 
 Let Thy fweetnefs bring relief, 
 
 Thou who cameft but to fave, 
 
 Thou who feareft not the grave! 
 
 Lord, in Thee I place my truft, 
 Thou art my defence and tower; 
 
 Death Thou treadeft in the duft, 
 O'er my foul he hath no power. 
 
 That I may have part in Thee 
 
 Help and fave and comfort me, 
 
 Give me of Thy grace and might, 
 
 Refurrection, life and light. 
 
 Fount of Good, within me dwell, 
 For the peace Thy prefence fheds, 
 
 Keeps us fafe in conflict fell, 
 
 Charms the pain from dying beds. 
 
 Hide me fafe within Thine arm,' 
 
 Where no foe can hurt or harm ; 
 
 Whofo, Lord, in Thee doth reft, 
 
 He hath conquer'd, he is bleft. 
 
 Heermann. 1644. 
 
74 Cgra ©armamca. 
 
 WEDNESDAY IN PASSION WEEK. 
 
 Now once in the end of the world hath He appeared, 
 to put away fin by the facrifice of Himfelf. — From 
 the Epistle. 
 
 w 
 
 HEN forrow and remorfe 
 Prey at my heart, to Thee 
 I look, who on the holy crofs 
 Waft flain for me. 
 Ah Lord, Thy precious blood was fpilt 
 For me, O moil unworthy, 
 To take away my guilt. 
 
 Oh wonder paft belief! 
 
 Behold the Mafter fpares 
 His fervants, and fore pain and grief 
 
 For them He bears. 
 God ftoopeth from His throne on high, 
 
 For me His guilty creature, 
 
 He deigns as man to die. 
 
 Though countlefs were the fins, 
 
 That weigh'd me to the dull, 
 Chrift's death for me the favour wins 
 
 "OfGodmoftjuft. 
 His precious blood my debts hath paid, 
 
 Of hell and all its torments 
 
 I am no more afraid. 
 
Cura Germanica. 75 
 
 My heart is fill'd with ruth, 
 Thinking on all Thou'fl borne, 
 How mighty love and tender truth 
 Were crown'd with thorn. 
 In fongs of thanks I'll fpend my breath 
 . For Thy fad cry, Thy fufFerings, 
 Thy wrongs, Thy guiltlefs death. 
 
 Thy Paffion, Lord, infpires 
 
 My fpirit day by day, 
 With flrength from all low dark defires 
 
 To flee away. 
 This thought I fain would cherifh mofl, 
 
 What pain my foul's redemption 
 
 To Thee, O Saviour, coll. 
 
 Whate'er the burden be, 
 
 The crofs upon me laid, 
 Or want or fhame, I look to Thee, 
 
 Be Thou my aid. 
 Give patience, give me flrength to take 
 
 Thee for my bright example, 
 
 And all the world forfake. 
 
 Let me to others do, 
 
 As Thou hafl done to me, 
 Love them with love unfeign'd and true, 
 
 Their fervant be 
 Of willing heart, nor feek my own, 
 
 But as Thou, Lord, hafl helped us, 
 
 From purefl love alone. 
 
76 Cyra Germanica. 
 
 And let Thy forrows cheer 
 My foul when I depart ; 
 Give ftrength to caft away all fear, 
 
 And tell my heart 
 That ilnce my truft is in Thy grace, 
 Thou wilt accept me yonder, 
 Where I fhall fee Thy face. 
 
 Gesenius. i 646. 
 
 T 
 
€$xa (fazxtnamta. 77 
 
 THURSDAY IN PASSION WEEK. 
 
 Pilate therefore, willing to releafe Jefus, fpake again 
 to them. But they cried, laying, Crucify him, crucify 
 him. And he faid unto them the third time, Why, 
 what evil hath he done ? — From the Gospel. 
 
 A 
 
 LAS, dear Lord, what evil haft Thou done, 
 That fuch iharp fentence from Thy Judge 
 
 hath won ? 
 What are His crimes, and what the guilt, 
 
 oh tell, 
 Wherein He fell? 
 
 They fcourge Him, crown Him with a crown of 
 
 thorn, 
 They fmite His face, with bitter mock and fcorn, 
 They give Him gall to drink, they pierce His fide, 
 The Crucified! 
 
 Whence come thefe forrows, whence this cruel woe ? 
 It was my fins that ftruck the fatal blow; 
 Mine were the wrath and anguifh, deareft Lord, 
 On Thee outpour'd. 
 
 What flrangeft puniihment ! The Shepherd good 
 For erring fheep here pours His own heart's blood, 
 The fervants' debts are on the Malier laid, 
 Who all hath paid. 
 
7^ Cgra (germanica. 
 
 From head to foot was there no fpot in me 
 Unfcarr'd by fin, from taint of evil free ; 
 My fins had weigh'd me down that I fhould dwell, 
 For aye in Hell. 
 
 Oh wondrous love, love that no meafure knows, 
 That brought Thee, Chrift, to drink this cup of woes! 
 Full of the world's vain joys and hopes was I, 
 While Thou mufl die! 
 
 mighty King! mighty beyond all time! 
 
 Fain would I found Thy praife through every clime ! 
 A gift were meet for Thee, my anxious thought 
 Long time hath fought. 
 
 But human wifdom fearches, Lord, in vain - 
 To find aught like Thy pity, or Thy pain. 
 How fhall my works, though toiling day and night, 
 Thy love requite ? 
 
 Yet have I somewhat that my Lord can pleafe; 
 
 1 can renounce fweet fins and felfilh eafe, 
 
 And quench the unhallow'd fires that back would 
 lure 
 To thoughts impure. 
 
 But fince my ftrength, alas, will ne'er prevail 
 My ftrong defires upon the crofs to nail, 
 Oh let Thy Spirit rule my heart, who leads 
 To all good deeds. 
 
 Then fhall Thy mercy fill my every thought ; 
 I love Thee fo, the world to me is nought. 
 My fole endeavour, Lord, is to fulfil 
 Thy holy will. 
 
Cgrct (S&ermamca. 79 
 
 My all I rifle to magnify Thy name, 
 No crofs mail daunt me, no reproach or fhame; 
 Man's fiercefl: threats I will not lay to heart, 
 Nor Death's worft fmart. 
 
 In truth my facrifice is nothing worth, 
 Yet Thou in mercy wilt not call it forth; 
 Thou'lt put me not to fhame, but for love's fake 
 My offering take. 
 
 Lord Jefus, once on high amongft Thine own, 
 Shall I ftand crown'd with light before Thy throne ; 
 Where fweeteft hymns are ever ringing round 
 My voice mail found. 
 
 Heermann. 1630. 
 
8o Cgra ©rnnanica« 
 
 GOOD FRIDAY. 
 
 Morning. 
 
 He was wounded for our tranfgreflions, He was 
 bruifed for our iniquities : the chaftifement of our peace 
 was upon Him, and with His ftripes we are healed.— 
 From the Lesson. 
 
 AH wounded Head! Muft Thou 
 Endure fuch ihame and fcorn ! 
 The blood is trickling from Thy brov* 
 Pierced by the crown of thorn. 
 Thou who waft crown'd on high 
 With light and majefty, 
 In deep difhonour here muft die, 
 Yet here I welcome Thee ! 
 
 Thou noble countenance! 
 
 All earthly lights are pale 
 Before the brightnefs of that glance, 
 
 At whfch a world fhall quail. 
 
 How is it quench' d and gone! 
 
 Thofe gracious eyes how dim ! 
 Whence .grew that cheek fo pale and wan? 
 
 Who dared to feoff at Him ? 
 
 All lovely hues of life, 
 That glow'd. on lip and cheek, 
 Have vanifhed in that awful ftrife ; 
 The Mighty One is weak. 
 
Z^xa (Ewmcmica. 81 
 
 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 fin and wrong 
 
 Hath all been laid on Thee. 
 
 Look on me where I kneel, 
 
 Wrath were my rightful lot, 
 One glance of love oh let me feel ! 
 
 Redeemer, fpurn me not! 
 
 My Guardian, own me Thine; 
 
 Thy lamb, O Shepherd, lead ! 
 What richeft bleffings, Source Divine, 
 
 Daily from Thee proceed ! 
 
 How oft Thy mouth has fed 
 
 My foul with angels' food, 
 How oft Thy Spirit o'er me fhed 
 
 His ftores of heavenly good ! 
 
 Ah would that I could fhare 
 
 Thy crofs, Thy bitter woes ! 
 All true delight lies hidden there, 
 
 Thence all true comfort flows. 
 
 Ah well were it for me 
 
 Could I here end my flrife, 
 And die upon the crofs with Thee 
 
 Who art my Life of life ! 
 
 F 
 
8 2 jüyra (ESmtmmca. 
 
 O Jefus, deareft Friend, 
 
 My foul is all o'erfraught 
 With thanks, when pondering to what end 
 
 Thou haft the battle fought. 
 
 Oh let me faithful keep, 
 
 As Thou art true to me, 
 So fhall my laft cold deathly fleep 
 
 Be but a reft in Thee. 
 
 Yes, when I hence muft go, 
 Go not Thou, Chrift, from me; 
 
 When Death has ftruck the mortal blow, 
 Bear Thou mine agony. 
 When heart and fpirit fink, 
 O'erwhelm'd with dark difmay, 
 
 Come Thou who ne'er from pain didft ihrink, 
 And chafe my fears away. 
 
 Come to me ere I die, 
 
 My comfort and my fhield; 
 And gazing on Thy crofs can I 
 
 Calmly my fpirit yield. 
 
 When life is well-nigh paft, 
 
 My darkening eyes fhall dwell 
 On Thee, my heart fhall hold Thee faft; 
 
 Who dieth thus, dies well. 
 
 Paul Gerhardt. 1659. 
 
&£va (fätxmariita. 83 
 
 GOOD FRIDAY. 
 
 Evening. 
 
 But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, 
 while we were yet finncrs, Chrift died for us. — Rom. 
 v. 8. 
 
 THOU Holieft Love, whom moil I love, 
 Who art my long'd-for only bliis, 
 Whom tendereft pity erft did move 
 To fathom woe and death's abyfs; 
 Thou who" -didft fuffer for my good, 
 
 And die my guilty debts to pay, 
 Thou Lamb of God, whofe precious blood 
 Can take a world's mifdeeds away; 
 
 Thou who didft bear the agony 
 
 That made e'en Thy ftrong fpirit quail, 
 Yet ever yearneft ftill for me 
 
 With longing love that ne'er fhall fail; 
 'Twas Thou waft willing, Thou alone, 
 
 To bear the righteous wrath of God; 
 Thy death hath ftill'd it, elfe had none 
 
 Found ftielter from its awful load. 
 
 O Love, who with unflinching heart 
 Didft bear all worft difgrace and fhamej 
 
 O Love, who mid the keeneft fmart 
 Of dying pangs wet t ftill the fame ; 
 
8 4 füret Germanica. 
 
 Who didft Thy changelefs virtue prove 
 E'en with Thy lateft parting breath, 
 
 And lpakeft words of gentlefl love 
 When foul and body fank in death; 
 
 O Love, through forrows manifold 
 
 Hi ft Thou betroth'd me as a bride, 
 By ceafelefs gifts, by love untold, 
 
 Haft bound me ever to Thy fide. 
 Oh let the weary ache, the fmart, 
 
 Of life's long tale of pain and lofs, 
 Be gently ftill'd within my heart 
 
 At thought of Thee, and of Thy crofs ! 
 
 Love, who gav'ft Thy life for me, 
 And won an everlafting good 
 
 Through Thy fore anguifh on the tree, 
 I ever think upon Thy blood ; 
 
 1 ever thank Thy facred wounds, 
 
 Thou wounded Love, Thou Holieft, 
 But moft when life is near its bounds, 
 And in Thy bofom fafe I reft. 
 
 Love, who unto death haft grieved 
 For this cold heart, unworthy Thine, 
 
 Whom the cold grave and death received, 
 I thank Thee for that grief divine. 
 
 1 give Thee thanks that Thou didft die 
 
 To win eternal life for me, 
 To bring falvation from on high; 
 
 Oh draw me up through love to Thee ! 
 
 Angelus. 1657, 
 
Cjjrct CEformamca. 85 
 
 EASTER EVEN. 
 
 And Jofeph 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. 
 
 REST of the weary! Thou 
 Thyfelf art refting now, 
 Where lowly in Thy fepulchre Thou 
 lieft: 
 From out her deathly fleep 
 My foul doth ftart, to weep 
 So fad a wonder, that Thou Saviour dieft! 
 
 Thy bitter anguiih o'er, 
 
 To this dark tomb they bore 
 Thee, Life of life — Thee, Lord of all creation! 
 
 The hollow rocky cave 
 
 Muft ferve Thee for a grave, 
 Who waft Thyfelf the Rock of our Salvation ! 
 
 O Prince of Life ! I know 
 
 That when I too lie low, 
 Thou wilt at laft my foul from death awaken; 
 
 Wherefore I will not Ihrink 
 
 From the grave's awful brink; 
 The heart that trufts in Thee mail ne'er be fhaken. 
 
86 jCgra ©ermantca. 
 
 To me the darkfome tomb 
 
 Is but a narrow room, 
 Where I may reft in peace from forrow free. 
 
 Thy death fhall give me power 
 
 To cry in that dark hour, 
 O Death, O Grave, where is your victory? 
 
 The grave can nought deftroy, 
 
 Only the flefh can die, 
 And e'en the body triumphs o'er decay : 
 
 Cloth'd by Thy wondrous might 
 
 In robes of dazzling light, 
 This flefh fhall burft the grave at that laft Day. 
 
 My Jefus, day by day, 
 
 Help me to watch and pray, 
 Befide the tomb where in my heart Thou'rt laid. 
 
 Thy bitter death fhall be 
 
 My conftant memory, 
 My guide at laft into Death's awful fhade. 
 
 S. Franck. 171 i 
 
Cüra Germanica. 87 
 
 EASTER DAY. 
 Morning. 
 
 Chrift being raifed from the dead dieth no more : 
 death hath no more dominion over him. — From thb 
 Anthem. 
 
 I 
 
 N the bonds of Death He lay, 
 Who for our offence was flain, 
 But the Lord is rifen to-day, 
 Chrift hath brought us life again 
 Wherefore let us all rejoice, 
 Singing loud with cheerful voice 
 
 Hallelujah! 
 
 Of the fons of men was none 
 
 Who could break the bonds of Death, 
 Sin this mifchief dire had done, 
 Innocent was none on earth, 
 Wherefore Death grew ftrong and bold, 
 Would all men in his prifon hold, 
 
 Hallelujah ! 
 
 Jefus Chrift, God's only Son, 
 
 Came at laft our foe to fmite, 
 All our fins away hath done, 
 
 Done away Death's power and right, 
 Only the form of Death is left, 
 Of his fting he is bereft ; 
 
 Hallelujah. 
 
83 Cgra ®flnnantca. 
 
 That was a wondrous war I trow, 
 
 When Life and Death together fought, 
 But Life hath triumph'd o'er his foe, 
 Death is mock'd and fet at nought ; 
 Tis even as the Scripture faith, 
 Chrift through death has conquer'd Death. 
 
 Hallelujah. 
 
 The rightful Pafchal Lamb is He, 
 
 On whom alone we all mull live, 
 Who to death upon the tree, 
 
 Himfelf in wondrous love did give. 
 Faith ftrikes his blood upon the door, 
 Death fees, and dares not harm us more. 
 
 Hallelujah. 
 
 Let us keep high feftival, 
 
 On this moft bleffed day of days, 
 When God His mercy fhow'd to all! 
 Our Sun is rifen with brightefl rays, 
 And our dark hearts rejoice to fee 
 Siri and night before him flee. 
 
 Hallelujah. 
 
 To the fupper of the Lord, 
 
 Gladly will we come to-day, 
 The word of peace is now reftored, 
 The old leaven is put away. 
 Chrift will be our food alone, 
 Faith no life but His doth own. 
 
 Hallelujah. 
 
 Luther, i 5 24. 
 
Cgrct (fatmamta. 89 
 
 EASTER DAY. 
 
 Evening. 
 
 If ye then be rifen with Chrift, feek thofe things 
 which are above, where Chrift fitteth on the right hand 
 of God. — From the Epistle. 
 
 O GLORIOUS Head, Thou liveft now! 
 Let us Thy members fhare Thy life; 
 Canft Thou behold their need, nor bow 
 To raife Thy children from the flrife 
 With felf and fin, with death and dark diftrefs, 
 That they may live to Thee in holinefs? 
 
 Earth knows Thee not, but evermore 
 
 Thou liveft in Paradife, in peace; 
 Thither my foul would alfo foar, 
 
 Let me from all the creatures ceafe : 
 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 coft, 
 
 What is not Thine within me flay, 
 Give me the lot I covet moil, 
 
 To rife as Thou haft rifen to-day. 
 Nought can I do, a flave to death I pine, 
 Work Thou in me, O Power and Life Divine ! 
 
9° £gra (Ekrmcmka. 
 
 Work Thou in me, and heavenward guide 
 My thoughts and wifhes, that my heart 
 
 Waver no more nor turn afide, 
 But fix for ever where Thou art. 
 
 Thou art not far from us; who love Thee well, 
 
 While yet on earth in heaven with Thee may dwell, 
 
 Tersteegen. i 73 i. 
 
iCgra Germanica. 9 1 
 
 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 fpake, Jefus himfelf ftood in the 
 midft of them, and faith unto them, Peace be unto you. 
 — From the Gospel. 
 
 WELCOME Thou viftor in the ftrife, 
 Welcome from out the cave ! 
 To-day we triumph in Thy life 
 Around Thine empty grave. 
 
 Our enemy is put to fhame, 
 
 His fhort-lived triumph o'er; 
 Our God is with us, we exclaim, 
 
 We fear our foe no more. 
 
 The dwellings of the juft, refound 
 
 With fongs of victory; 
 For in their midfl Thou, Lord, art founds 
 
 And bringeil peace with Thee. 
 
 O mare with us the fpoils, we pray, 
 
 Thou diedft to achieve ; 
 
 We meet within Thy houfe to-day 
 Our portion to receive : 
 
9 2 £gra (Sfarmanica. 
 
 And let Thy conquering banner wave 
 
 O'er hearts Thou makeft free, 
 And point the path that from the grave 
 
 Leads heavenwards up to Thee. 
 
 We bury all our fin and crime 
 
 Deep in our Saviour's tomb, 
 And feek the treafure there, that time 
 
 Nor change can e'er confume. 
 
 We die with Thee ; oh let us live 
 
 Henceforth to Thee aright; 
 The blemngs Thou haft died to give, 
 
 Be daily in our fight. 
 
 Fearlefs we lay us in the tomb, 
 
 And ileep 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 pointlefs all his darts; 
 God's favour now on us hath ihone, 
 
 Joy filleth all our hearts. 
 
 SCHMOLCK. I 71 2, 
 
Cgra ©armanka. 93 
 
 TUESDAY IN EASTER WEEK. 
 
 I know that my Redeemer liveth . . and though aftei 
 my (kin worms deftroy this body, yet in my fleih mail 
 I fee God. — Job xix. 25, 26. 
 
 For this corruptible muft put on incorruption, and 
 this mortal muft put on immortality. — From the Les- 
 son. 
 
 JESUS my Redeemer lives, 
 Chrift my truft is dead no more; 
 In the ftrength this knowledge gives 
 Shall not all my fears be o'er; 
 Calm, though death's long night be fraught 
 Still with many an anxious thought ? 
 
 Jefus my Redeemer lives, 
 
 And His life I once fhall fee ; 
 Bright the hope this prcmife gives, 
 
 Where He is I too fhall be. 
 Shall I fear then? Can the Head 
 Rife and leave the members dead? 
 
 Clofe to Him my foul is bound 
 
 In the bonds of Hope enclafp'd; 
 Faith's flrong hand this hold hath found, 
 
 And the Rock hath firmly grafp'd. 
 
94 jEgra ®ermamca. 
 
 Death fhall ne'er my foul remove 
 From her refuge in Thy love. 
 
 I fhall fee Him with thefe eyes, 
 Him whom I fhall fiirely know; 
 
 Not another fhall I rife, 
 
 With His love this heart fhall glow; 
 
 Only there fhall difappear 
 
 Weakneß in and round me here. 
 
 Ye who fuffer, figh, and moan, 
 
 Frefh and glorious there fhall reign; 
 
 Earthly here the feed is fown, 
 Heavenly it fhall rife 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 fhalt know His voice, 
 
 When the final trump is heard, 
 
 And the deaf cold grave is ftirr'd. 
 
 Laugh to fcorn then death and hell, 
 Laugh to fcorn the gloomy grave; 
 
 Caught into the air to dwell 
 
 With the Lord who comes to fave, 
 
 We fhall trample on our foes, 
 
 Mortal weaknefs, fear and woes. 
 
£in*ct (Bcvmanka. 95 
 
 Only fee ye that your heart, 
 
 Rife betimes from earthly luft, 
 Would ye there with Him have part, 
 
 Here obey your Lord and truft. 
 Fix your hearts beyond the ikies, 
 Whither ye yourfelves would rife. 
 * Louisa Henrietta, 
 
 Eleftrefs of Brandenburg. 1653« 
 
9 6 Cgra <&tman\ta. 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is ir 
 His Son. — From the Epistle. 
 
 WHAT had I been if Thou wert not? 
 What were I now if Thou wert gone ? 
 Anguifh and fear were then my lot, 
 In this wide world I flood alone; 
 Whate'er I loved were fafe no more, 
 
 The future were a dark abyfs, 
 To whom could I my forrows pour, 
 If Thee mv laden heart mould mifs ? 
 
 But when Thou mak'ft Thy prefence felt, 
 
 And when the foul hath grafp'd Thee right 
 How fall the dreary fhadows melt 
 
 Beneath Thy warm and living light: 
 In Thee I find a nobler birth, 
 
 A glory o'er the world I fee, 
 And Paradife returns to earth, 
 
 And blooms again for us in Thee. 
 
 Thou flrong and loving Son of Man, 
 
 Redeemer from the bonds of fin, 
 'Tis Thou the living fpark doft fan 
 
 That fets my heart on fire within. 
 
Cgnx ©armantca. 9? 
 
 Thou openefl heaven once more to men, 
 The foul's true home, Thy kingdom, Lord, 
 
 And I can trull and hope again, 
 And feel myfelf akin to God. 
 
 Brethren, go forth beiide all ways, 
 
 The wanderer greet with outftretch'd hand, 
 And call him back who darkly ftrays, 
 
 And bid him join our gladfome band. 
 That Heaven hath ftoop'd to earth below, 
 
 Proclaim the glad news everywhere, 
 That all may learn our faith and know 
 
 They too may find »n entrance there. 
 
 Novalis. About 1795* 
 
9 8 figra (Eformanka. 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 Jefus faid, I am the Good Shepherd: the Good Shep- 
 herd giveth His life for His fheep. — From the Gos- 
 pel. 
 
 LOVING Shepherd, kind and true, 
 Wilt Thou not in pity come 
 To Thy lamb? As fhepherds do, 
 Bear me in Thy bofom home : 
 Take me hence from earth's annoy 
 To Thy home of endleis joy. 
 
 See how I have gone aftray 
 
 In this earthly wildernefs; 
 Come and take me hence away 
 
 To Thy flock who dwell in büß, 
 And Thy glory, Lord, behold, 
 Safe within Thy heavenly fold. 
 
 For I fain would gaze cm Thee, 
 With the lambs to whom 'tis given 
 
 That they feed from danger free, 
 In the happy fields of heaven; 
 
 Prailing Thee, all terrors o'er, 
 
 Never can they wander more. 
 
 Here I live in fore diftrefs, 
 Careful, timid, every hour; 
 
jEgra <8>ermamca. 99 
 
 For my foes around me prefs, 
 
 Hem me in with craft and power: 
 Not one moment fafe can be, 
 Lord, Thy lamb away from Thee. 
 
 O Lord Jefus, let me not 
 
 'Mid the ravening wolves e'er fall, 
 
 Help me as a fhepherd ought, 
 That I may efcape them all; 
 
 Bear me homeward in Thy breaft, 
 
 To Thy fold of endlefs reft. 
 
 Angelus. 1657. 
 
loo £gni ©ormamca. 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 And ye now therefore have forrow ; but I will fee 
 you again, and your heart (hall rejoice, and your joy no 
 man taketh from you. — From the Gosfel. 
 
 COMETH funfhine after rain, 
 After mourning joy again, 
 After heavy bitter grief 
 Dawneth furely fweet relief; 
 And my foul, 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 refrfcfh'd me with His grace, 
 
 And His mighty hand unbound 
 
 Chains of hell about me wound ; 
 
 Quicker, ftronger, leaps my blood, 
 Since His mercy, like a flood, 
 Pour'd o'er all my heart for good. 
 
 Bitter anguifh have I borne, 
 
 Keen regret my heart hath torn, 
 
 Sorrow dimm'd my weeping eyes, 
 
 Satan blinded me with lies ; 
 Yet at laft am I fet free, 
 Help, protection, love, to me 
 Once more true companions be. 
 
Cgra (fazxtnamta. io1 
 
 Ne'er was left a helplefs prey, 
 
 'Ne'er with fhame was turn'd away, 
 
 He who gave himfelf to God, 
 
 And on Him had call his load. 
 
 Who in God his hope hath placed 
 Shall not life in pain outwafte, 
 Fulleft joy he yet fhall tafle. 
 
 Though to-day may not fulfil 
 
 All thy hopes, have patience ftill; 
 
 For perchance to-morrow's fun 
 
 Sees thy happier days begun. 
 
 As God willeth march the hours, 
 Bringing joy at lall in mowers, 
 And whate'er we afk'd is ours. 
 
 When my heart was vex'd with care, 
 Fill'd with fears well nigh defpair ; 
 When with watching many a night, 
 On me fell pale licknefs' blight; 
 
 When my courage fail'd me fall, 
 Camell Thou, my God, at lall, 
 And my woes were quickly pall. 
 
 Now as long as here I roam, 
 On this earth have houfe and home, 
 Shall this wondrous gleam from Thee 
 Shine through all my memory. 
 
 To my God I yet will cling, 
 
 All my life the praifes fing 
 
 That from thankful hearts outfpring. 
 
i° 2 Cgra (Bfcrmanica. 
 
 Every forrow, every fmart, 
 
 That the Eternal Father's heart 
 
 Hath appointed me of yore, 
 
 Or hath yet for me in ftore, 
 
 As my life flows on I'll take 
 Calmly, gladly for His fake, 
 No more faithlefs murmurs make. 
 
 I will meet diftrefs and pain, 
 I will greet e'en death's dark reign, 
 I will lay me in the grave, 
 With a heart flill glad and brave. 
 
 Whom the Strongeft doth defend, 
 Whom the Higheft counts His friend, 
 Cannot perilh in the end. 
 
 Paul Gerhardt. 1659, 
 
Cgra Germanica. 103 
 
 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. 
 
 O 
 
 HOLY Ghoft! Thou fire Divine! 
 From higheft heaven on us clown fhine; 
 Comforter, be Thy comfort mine! 
 
 Come, Father of the poor, to earth ; 
 Come with Thy gifts of precious worth ; 
 Come, Light of all of mortal birth ! 
 
 Thou rich in comfort ! Ever bleft 
 
 The heart where Thou art conftant gueft, 
 
 Who giv'ft the heavy-laden reft. 
 
 Come, Thou in whom our toil is fweet, 
 Our fhadow in the noon-day heat, 
 Before whom mourning flieth fleet. 
 
 Bright Sun of Grace ! Thy funfhine dart 
 On all who cry to Thee apart, 
 And fill with gladnefs every heart. 
 
 Whate'er without Thy aid is wrought, 
 Or fkilful deed, or wifeft thought, 
 God counts it vain and merely nought. 
 
i°4 Curcr ©crmanica. 
 
 O cleanfe us that we fin no more, 
 O'er parched fouls Thy waters pour; 
 Heal the fad heart that acheth fore. 
 
 Thy will be ours in all our ways; 
 Oh melt the frozen with Thy rays; 
 Call home the loft in error's maze. 
 
 And grant us, Lord, who cry to Thee, 
 And hold the faith in unity, 
 Thy precious gifts of charity; 
 
 That we may live in holinefs, 
 And find in death our happinefs, 
 And dwell with Thee in lafting blifs ! 
 
 King Robert of France, 
 about a. d. iooo. 
 
£m*a ©trmanka. 10 i 
 
 FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 
 
 Thefe things have I fpoken unto you, that in me ye 
 might have peace. In the world ye (hall have tribula- 
 tion ; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the 
 world. — From the Gospel. 
 
 CHRIST, Thou the champion of the band 
 who own 
 Thy crofs, oh make Thy fuccour quickly 
 known ; 
 The fchemes of thofe who long our blood have fought 
 Bring Thou to nought. 
 
 Do Thou Thyfelf for us Thy children fight, 
 Withftand the devil, quell his rage and might, 
 Whate'er aflails Thy members left below 
 Do Thou o'erthrow. 
 
 And give us peace; peace in the church and fchool, 
 Peace to the powers who o'er our country rule, 
 Peace to the confcience, peace within the heart, 
 Do Thou impart. 
 
 So mail Thy goodnefs here be ftill adored, 
 Thou guardian of Thy little flock, dear Lord, 
 And heaven and earth through all eternity 
 Shall worfhip Thee. 
 
 LOWENSTERN. 
 
 During the Thirty Years' War, 
 6* 
 
i° 6 fgra (Swmamca, 
 
 ASCENSION DAY. 
 
 This fame Jefus which is taken up from you into 
 heaven, mail fo come, in like manner as ye have feen 
 him go into heaven. — From the Epistle. 
 
 LORD, on earth I dwell in pain; 
 Here in anguifh I muft lie ; 
 Wherefore leav'ft Thou me again, 
 Why ascendeft Thou on high? 
 Take me, take me hence with Thee, 
 Or abide, Lord, frill 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 fighs an entrance find 
 To Thy heaven whene'er I pray. 
 
 When I cannot pray, oh plead 
 
 With Thy Father in my Head; 
 
 Thou who fitt'fl at God's right hand, 
 
 Help us here Thy faithful band. 
 
 Help me earthly toys to fpurn, 
 
 Raife my thoughts from things below; 
 
 Mortal am I here, yet yearn 
 
 Heavenly like my Lord to grow, 
 
Cgra Germanica. io 7 
 
 That my time through faith may be 
 Order'd for eternity; 
 Till we rife, all perils o'er, 
 Whither Thou hail gone before. 
 
 In due feason come again, 
 
 As was promifed us of old ; 
 Raife the members that have lain 
 
 Gnaw'd of death beneath the mould. 
 Judge the evil world that deems 
 Thy fure words but empty dreams ; 
 Then for all our forrows paft, 
 Let us know Thy joy at laft. 
 
 Neumann, i 700. 
 
io8 £gra Germanica, 
 
 SUNDAY AFTER ASCENSION DAY. 
 
 Thefe all confefled that they were Grangers and pil- 
 grims on the earth. . . For they defired a better coun- 
 try, that is, an heavenly ; wherefore God is not afhamed 
 to be called their God : for He hath prepared for them 
 a city. — Hüb. xi. 13, 16. 
 
 H 
 
 EAVENWARD doth our journey tend, 
 We are ftrangers here on earth, 
 Through the wildernefs we wend 
 Towards the Canaan of our birth. 
 Here we roam a pilgrim band, 
 Yonder is our native land. 
 
 Heavenward ftretch, my foul, thy wings, 
 Heavenly nature canft thou claim, 
 
 There is nought of earthly things 
 Worthy to be all thine aim; 
 
 Every foul whom God infpires, 
 
 Back to Him its Source afpires. 
 
 Heavenward! doth His Spirit cry, 
 When I hear Him in His Word, 
 
 Showing thus the reft on high, 
 Where I Ihall be with my Lord: 
 
 When His Word fills all my thought, 
 
 Oft to heaven my foul is caught. 
 
Jügra ©armanua. 109 
 
 ■ 
 
 Heavenward ever would I hafte, 
 When Thy Table, Lord, is fpread; 
 
 Heavenly ftrength on earth I tafte, 
 Feeding on the Living Bread. 
 
 Such is e'en on earth our fare 
 
 Who Thy marriage feaft mail ihare. 
 
 Heavenwards ! Faith difcerns the prize 
 
 That is waiting us afar, 
 And my heart would fwiftly rife, 
 
 High o'er fun and moon and liar, 
 To that Light behind the veil 
 Where all earthly iplendours pale. 
 
 Heavenward Death mall lead at laft, 
 
 To the home where I would be, 
 All my forrows overpaft, 
 
 I fhall triumph there with Thee, 
 Jefus, who haft gone before, 
 That we too might Heavenwards foar. 
 
 Heavenwards! Heavenwards! Only this 
 
 Is my watchword on the earth; 
 For the love of heavenly blifs 
 
 Counting all things little worth. 
 Heavenward all my being tends, 
 Till in Heaven my journey ends. 
 
 Schmolck. 1731» 
 
no 
 
 Cgrct ©crmmüca. 
 
 WHIT-SUNDAY. 
 
 I will pray the Father, and He fhall give you another 
 Comforter, that He may abide with you for ever, even 
 the Spirit of Truth — From the Gospel. 
 
 COME, deck our feaft to-day 
 With flowers and wreaths of May, 
 And bring an offering pure and fweet; 
 The Spirit of all grace 
 Makes earth His dwelling-place, 
 Prepare your hearts your Lord to meet ; 
 Receive Him, and He fhall outpour 
 Such light, all hearts with joy run o'er, 
 And found of tears is heard no more. 
 
 Thou harbinger of peace, 
 
 Who maketh forrows ceafe, 
 Wifdom in word and deed is Thine; 
 
 Strong hand of God, Thy feal 
 
 The loved of Jefus feel; 
 Pure Light, o'er all our pathway fhine ! 
 
 Give vigorous life and healthy powers, 
 
 Oh let Thy fevenfold gifts be ours, 
 
 Refrefh us with Thy gracious mowers! 
 
 Oh touch our tongues with flame, 
 When fpeaking Jem's name ! 
 
£m*a (Germanica. ll1 
 
 And lead us up the heavenward road. 
 Give us the power to pray, 
 Teach us what words to fay, 
 
 Whene'er we come before our God. 
 O Higheft Good, our fpirits cheer, 
 When raging foes are ftrong and near, 
 Give us brave hearts undimm'd by fear. 
 
 O golden rain from heaven! 
 
 Thy precious dews be given 
 Unto the churches' barren field! 
 
 And let Thy waters flow, 
 
 Where'er the fowers fow 
 The feed 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 moot. 
 
 Thou fiery glow of Love ! 
 
 Let us Thy ardours prove, 
 Confume our hearts with quenchlefs fire ! 
 
 Come, O Thou tracklefs Wind! 
 
 Breathe gently o'er our mind! 
 Let not the flelh to rule afpire ; 
 
 Help us our free-born right to take, 
 
 The heavy yoke of fin to break, 
 
 And all her tempting paths forfake. 
 
 Be it Thine to ftir our will; 
 Our good intents fulfil ; 
 Be with us when we go and come; 
 Deep in our fpirits dwell, 
 And make their inmoil cell 
 
112 
 
 igra ®mnamca. 
 
 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 ! 
 
 O make our crofses fweet, 
 
 And let Thy funfhine greet 
 Our {training eyes in clouded hours! 
 
 Wing Thou our upward flight 
 
 Toward yonder mountain bright, 
 Girded about with Zion's golden towers ! 
 
 Forfake us not when our laft foe 
 
 Puts forth his ftrength to lay us low, 
 
 Then, then our vi£tory beftow ! 
 
 Let us, while here we dwell, 
 
 This one thought ponder well, 
 That in God's likenefs we are made. 
 
 As o'er a fruitful land 
 
 Rich harvefts waving ftand, 
 We, ferving Him, bear fruits that never fade, 
 
 Till Thou in whom all comfort lies, 
 
 Lift us to fields above the ikies, 
 
 And bid us bloom in Paradife ! 
 
 Schmolck. 171 5 
 
Cgra ©ermanica. n 3 
 
 MONDAY IN WHITSUN-WEEK. 
 
 iß 
 
 Would God that all the Lord's people were prophets, 
 and that the Lord would put His Spirit upon them !— 
 From the Lesson. 
 
 COME to Thy temple here on earth, 
 Be Thou my fpirit's gueft, 
 Who givelr. us of mortal birth 
 A fecond birth more bleft; 
 Spirit beloved, Thou mighty Lord, 
 Who with the Father and the Son 
 Reigneit, upon an equal throne, 
 Art equally adored ! 
 
 Oh enter, let me feel and know 
 
 Thy mighty power within, 
 That can alone our help bellow, 
 
 And refcue us from fin. 
 Oh cleanfe my foul and make it white, 
 
 That I with heart unftain'd and true, 
 
 May daily render fervice due, 
 And honour Thee aright. 
 
 I was a wild unfruitful vine 
 
 Which Thou muft prune and train ; 
 
 Death pierced through all this life of mine, 
 But Thou my foe hath flain. 
 
"4 £g ra ©evmamca. 
 
 Thy holy baptifm is his grave, 
 He perifhes beneath the flood 
 Of His moll precious death and blood, 
 
 Who died our life to fave. 
 
 Thou art the Spirit who doft teach 
 
 To pray aright, for all 
 Our prayers are heard if Thou befeech, 
 
 Thy fongs have fweeteft fall. 
 They foar on tirelefs wings to heaven, 
 
 They fail not from before God's throne, 
 
 Till all His goodnefs we have known 
 By whom all help is given. 
 
 Thou art the Spirit of all joy, 
 
 Sadnefs Thou loveft not; 
 Thy comfort beaming from on high, 
 
 Lights up the darkeft lot, 
 Ah yes, how many a time of old 
 
 Thy voice hath wrapt my foul away, 
 
 To yon bright halls of endlefs day, 
 And oped the gates of gold ! 
 
 Thou art the Spirit of all love, 
 
 Thou loveft kindly life, 
 Wouldft not that wrath our hearts mould move, 
 
 Nor envy, anger, ftrife. 
 Thou hateft hatred's withering reign, 
 
 In hearts that difcord maketh dark 
 
 Doft Thou rekindle love's bright fpark, 
 And make them one again. 
 
Cgra Germanica. i*5 
 
 On Thee is all this world upftaid, 
 
 And in Thy hands doth reft; 
 Thou canft the wayward heart perfiiade 
 
 To turn as feems Thee beft : 
 Oh therefore give Thy love and peace, 
 
 That they may join in flrongefl bands 
 
 Long parted foes, and through our lands 
 Thefe fad divifions ceafe. 
 
 Arife, and ftem this tide of woe, 
 
 Of heartache, and of pain; 
 Call back Thy flock, and make them know 
 
 Bright days of joy again; 
 To peace and wealth the lands reftore, 
 
 Wafted with fire or plague or fword; 
 
 Come to Thy ruin'd churches, Lord, 
 And bid them bloom once more! 
 
 The rulers of our land defend, 
 
 Our Sovereign's throne uphold; 
 That he and we may profper, fend 
 
 True wifdom to the old ; 
 With piety the young men blefs, 
 
 And through the nation fhed abroad 
 
 True virtue and the fear of God, 
 A nation's happinefs. 
 
 Fill every heart with holy zeal 
 
 To keep the faith unftain'd; 
 Let houfe and land Thy blefling feel, 
 
 Whence all true wealth is gain'd. 
 
i*6 Cgra ©trmamca. 
 
 Him who refifts Thy inward powers, 
 The Evil Spirit make Thou flee; 
 Whate'er delights Thy heart, would he 
 
 Fain root from out of ours. 
 
 Give ftrong and cheerful hearts to Hand 
 
 Undaunted in the wars, 
 That Satan's works and mighty band 
 
 Are waging with Thy caufe. 
 Help us to fight as warriors brave, 
 
 That we may conquer in the field, 
 
 And not one Chriftian man may yield 
 His foul to fin a flave. 
 
 Order according to Thy mind 
 
 Our life from day to day, 
 And when this life mull be refign'd, 
 
 And Death has feized his prey, 
 When all our days have fleeted by, 
 
 Help us to die with fearlefe fpirit, 
 
 And let us after death inherit 
 Eternal life on high. " 
 
 Paul Gerhardt. 
 During the Thirty Years' War, 
 
Cgra ©armanka. "7 
 
 TUESDAY IN WHITSUN-WEEK. 
 
 Hereby know ye the Spirit of God. Every fpirit 
 that confefTeth that Jefus Chrift is come in the fleih is of 
 God. — From the Lesson. 
 
 COME, Holy Spirit, God and Lord, 
 Be all Thy graces now outpour'd 
 On the believer's mind and foul, 
 And touch their hearts with living coal. 
 Thy Light this day fhone forth fo clear, 
 All tongues and nations g ther'd near, 
 To learn that faith, for which we bring 
 Glad praife to Thee, and loudly fing, 
 
 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 flrange, 
 Nor e'er to other teachers range, 
 But Jefus for our Matter own, 
 And put our truft in Him alone. 
 
 Hallelujah, Hallelujah! 
 
 Thou Sacred Ardoui, Comfort Sweet, 
 Help us to wait with ready feet 
 
"8 Ctjra (fifermanica. 
 
 And willing heart at Thy command, 
 Nor trial fright us from Thy band. 
 Lord, make us ready with Thy powers, 
 Strengthen the flefh in weaker hours, 
 That as good warriors we may force 
 Through life and death to Thee our courfe. 
 
 Hallelujah, Hallelujah! 
 
 Luther. 1524. 
 
iLüva ©ermamca. "9 
 
 TRINITY SUNDAY. 
 
 And God faid, Let us make man in our image 
 From the Lesson. 
 
 MOST High and Holy Trinity! 
 Who of Thy mercy mild 
 Haft form'd me here in Time, to be 
 Thy image and Thy child: 
 Oh let me love Thee day and night 
 With all my foul, with all my might; 
 Oh come, Thyfelf my foul prepare, 
 And make Thy dwelling ever there! 
 
 Father ! replenifh with Thy grace 
 
 This longing heart of mine, 
 Make it Thy quiet dwelling-place, 
 Thy facred inmoft fhrine ! 
 Forgive that oft my fpirit wears 
 Her time and ftrength in trivial cares, 
 Enfold her in Thy changelefs peace, 
 So fhe from all but Thee may ceafe ! 
 
 O God the Son ! Thy wifdom's light 
 
 On my dark reafon pour ; 
 Forgive that things of fenfe and fight 
 
 Were all her joy of yore; 
 
120 £gra (Ewmantca. 
 
 Henceforth let every thought and deed 
 On Thee be fix'd, from Thee proceed, 
 Draw me to Thee, for I would rife 
 Above thefe earthly vanities! 
 
 O Holy Ghoft! Thou fire of love, 
 
 Enkindle with Thy flame my will; 
 Come with Thy ftrength, Lord, from above, 
 Help me Thy bidding to fulfil: 
 Forgive that I fo oft have done 
 What I as fmful ought to fhun; 
 Let me with pure and quenchleis fire 
 Thy favour and Thyfelf defire ! 
 
 Moll High and Holy Trinity! 
 
 Draw me away far hence, 
 And fix upon eternity 
 
 All powers of foul and fenfe! 
 Make me at one within; at one 
 With Thee on earth; when life is done 
 Take me to dwell in light with Thee, 
 Moft High and Holy Trinity! 
 
 Angelus. 1657- 
 
Cgra (Jknnamca. i** 
 
 FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 God is Love . . and herein is love, not that we loved 
 God, but that He loved us. — From the Epistle. 
 
 ON wings of faith, ye thoughts, fly hence, 
 Roam o'er Eternity's vafl field, 
 Surpafs the bounds of time and fenfe, 
 And rife to Him who hath reveal'd 
 That He is Love: there paufe, and aweilruck view 
 That ancient love with every morning new ! 
 
 Ere earth's foundations yet were laid, 
 
 Or heaven's fair roof were fpread abroad, 
 Ere man a living foul was made, 
 
 Love flirr'd within the heart of God; 
 Love fill'd the long futurity with good, 
 And grace to help at need befide her flood. 
 
 Thy loving counfel gave to me 
 
 True life in Chriit, Thy only Son, 
 Whom Thou hall made our way to Thee, 
 From whom all grace flows ever down. 
 Whofe precious blood can make us pure and whole, 
 And blefs and hallow all our inmofl foul. 
 
 O Love, that long ere time began, 
 
 That precious name of child beflow'd ; 
 That open'd Heaven on earth to man, 
 And call'd us fmners fons of God ; 
 Thy gracious promptings move the Father's hand, 
 And on the page of life our names fhall Hand! 
 
122 
 
 Cgra ÖMrmanfra. 
 
 Ah happy hours, whene'er uplprings 
 
 My foul to yon Eternal Source, 
 Whence the glad river downward fings, 
 Watering with goodnefs all my courfe, 
 So that each palling 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 into life on fea and land; 
 
 Oh why mould God fuch bleflings fhower 
 On me, who am a leaf that fadeth fall, 
 A little fliifting dull before the blaß! 
 
 I am not worthy, Lord, that Thou 
 
 Shouldlt fuch compaflion on me Ihow ; 
 That He who made the world mould bow 
 To cheer with love a wretch fo low. 
 O Father, I would utterly relign 
 Myfelf to Thee ; take me, and make me Thine, 
 
 When ftrength and heart grow faint and fad, 
 
 From battling long with heavy pain, 
 
 Thy fmile lhines forth to make me glad, 
 
 Thou crownell me with joy again ; 
 
 Then I behold Thy Spirit's wondrous power, 
 
 Whofe work is mightieil in our weakell hour. 
 
 Forth from Thy rich and bounteous ftore 
 
 Life's common blelfmgs daily flow, 
 More than we dare to afk, far more 
 Than we deferve, doll Thou bellow. 
 My heart dhTolves in tears of thankfulnefs, 
 To fee how true Thy care, how quick to blefs. 
 
Cgra <E>mnanica. 1*3 
 
 Nor here alone : hope pierces far 
 
 Through all the fhades of earth and time; 
 
 Faith mounts beyond the fartheft ftar, 
 
 Yon mining heights fhe fain would climb, 
 
 And gazing on eternity behold 
 
 The promifed land, our heritage of old. 
 
 Can I with lovelefs heart receive 
 
 Tokens of love that never ceafe ? 
 Can I be thanklefs ftill, and grieve 
 Him who is all my joy and peace? 
 Ah Friend of Man, were I to turn from Thee, 
 Myfelf were fure my own worft enemy. 
 
 Could I but honour Thee aright, 
 
 Noble and fweet my fong mould be; 
 That earth and heaven mould learn Thy might, 
 And what my God hath done for me. 
 There is no mufic fweet as is Thy name, 
 No joy fo deep as pondering o'er Thy fame. 
 
 O heart redeem'd! thou think'ft it long 
 
 Till the appointed hour be come, 
 When thou fhalt join the angels' fong 
 
 To that Fair Love that brought thee home. 
 Have patience, heart; time hurries faft away, 
 Soon fhalt thou reach the one Eternal Day. 
 
 J. G. Hermann. 1747. 
 
I2 4 Cgra (S&ermantca. 
 
 SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 And this is His commandment ; That we mould be- 
 lieve on the name of His Son Jefus Chrift, and love 
 one another, as He gave us commandment. — From 
 the Epistle. 
 
 HEART and heart together bound, 
 Seek in God your true repofe, 
 In your love the price be found 
 Of your Saviour's love and woes ; 
 We the members, He the Head, 
 
 He the fun, we beams He mowers, 
 Brethren by one Mailer led, 
 We are His, and He is ours. 
 
 Children of His realm draw near, 
 
 Make your covenant ftronger flill, 
 From your hearts allegiance fwear 
 
 Unto Him who conquer'd. ill. 
 If your bonds are yet too weak, 
 
 If but fragile yet they prove, 
 Help from His good Spirit feek 
 
 Who can fteel the chains of love. 
 
 Only fuch love will fuffice, 
 
 As the love that dwells in Him, 
 Love that from the crofs ne'er flies, 
 
 Love that fpares not life or limb 
 
&Qxa ©ermamca. l2 >5 
 
 Twas for finners He was flain, 
 'Twas for foes He fhed His blood, 
 
 That His death for all might gain 
 Endlefs life — the Higheft Good. 
 
 Thus, O trueft Friend, unite 
 
 All Thy confecrated band, 
 That their hearts be fet aright 
 
 To fulfil Thy laft command. 
 Each muft onward urge his friend, 
 
 Helping him in word and deed, 
 Love's bleft pathway to afcend, 
 
 Following where Thou, Lord, dofl lead. 
 
 Thou who doft command that all 
 
 Practife love that bear Thy name, 
 Wake the dead, new followers call, 
 
 Touch the flothful with Thy flame. 
 Let us live, O Lord, at one, 
 
 As Thou with the Father art, 
 That through all the world be none 
 
 Of Thy members left apart. 
 
 Then were given what Thou haft fought, 
 
 In the Son were all men freed, 
 And the world at laft were taught 
 
 That Thy rule is bleft indeed. 
 Father of all fouls, we praife 
 
 Thee who fhineft in the Son ; 
 Lord, to Thee our hymns we raife, 
 
 Who haft all men to Thee drawn! 
 
 After Zinzendorf 
 About 1 73 1. 
 
i2ö Cgra (Btermamca, 
 
 THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 Caft all your care upon Him, for He careth for you. 
 —From the Ep*stle. 
 
 W 
 
 HAT within me and without, 
 Hourly on my fpirit weighs, 
 Burdening heart and foul with doubt, 
 Darkening all my weary days: 
 In it I behold Thy will, 
 
 God, who giveft reft and peace, 
 And my heart is calm and füll, 
 Waiting till Thou fend releafe. 
 
 God! Thou art my rock of ftrength, 
 
 And my home is in Thine arms, 
 Thou wilt fend me help at length, 
 
 And I feel no wild alarms. 
 Sin nor Death can pierce the ihield 
 
 Thy defence has o'er me thrown, 
 Up to Thee myfelf I yield, 
 
 And my fbrrows are Thine own. 
 
 When my trials tarry long, 
 
 Unto Thee I look and wait, 
 Knowing none, though keen and ftrong, 
 
 Can my trull in Thee abate. 
 
Cgra (ßwmamca. * 2 7 
 
 And this faith I long have nurft, 
 Comes alone, O God, from Thee; 
 
 Thou my heart didft open firft, 
 Thou didft fet this hope in me. 
 
 Chriftians ! call on Him your load, 
 
 To your tower of refuge fly ; 
 Know He is the Living God, 
 
 Ever to His creatures nigh. 
 Seek His ever-open door 
 
 In your hours of utmoft need ; 
 All your hearts before Him pour, 
 
 He will fend you help with fpeed. 
 
 But haft thou fome darling plan, 
 
 Cleaving to the things of earth ? 
 Leaneft thou for aid on man ? 
 
 Thou wilt find him nothing worth. 
 Rather truft the One alone 
 
 Whofe is endlefs power and love, 
 And the help He gives His own, 
 
 Thou in very deed fhalt prove. 
 
 On Thee, O my God, I reft, 
 
 Letting life float calmly on, 
 For I know the la ft is beft, 
 
 When the crown of joy is won. 
 In Thy might all things I bear,- 
 
 In Thy love find bitters fweet, 
 And with all my grief and care 
 
 Sit in patience at Thy feet. 
 
O my foul, why art thou vex'd? 
 
 Let things go e'en as they will; 
 Though to thee they feem perplex'd, 
 
 Yet His order they fulfil. 
 Here He is thy flrength and guard, 
 
 Power to harm thee here has none; 
 Yonder will He each reward 
 
 For the works he here has done. 
 
 Let Thy mercy's wings be fpread 
 
 O'er me, keep me clofe to Thee, 
 In the peace Thy love doth fhed, 
 
 Let me dwell eternally. 
 Be my All; in all I do 
 
 Let me only leek Thy will, 
 Where the heart to Thee is true, 
 
 All is peaceful, calm and füll. 
 
 A. H. Francke. 1663-1727, 
 
Cgra ®*rmanka. 12 9 
 
 FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 I reckon that the iufferings of this present time are 
 not worthy to be compared with the glory that fhall be 
 revealed in us. — From the Epistle. 
 
 WOULD'ST thou inherit life with Chrift 
 on high? 
 Then count the coft, and know 
 That here on earth below 
 Thou needs muft fuffer with thy Lord and die. 
 We reach that gain to which all elfe is lofs, 
 But through the crofs. 
 
 Oh think what forrows Chrift Himfelf has known! 
 
 The fcorn, and anguifh fore, 
 
 The bitter death He bore, 
 Ere he afcended to His heavenly throne; 
 And deemeft thou, thou canft with right complain, 
 Whate'er thy pain? 
 
 Not e'en the lharpeft forrows we can feel, 
 Nor keeneft pangs, we dare 
 With that great blifs compare 
 When God His glory fhall in us reveal, 
 That fhall endure when our brief woes are o'er 
 For evermore! 
 
 Simon Dach. 1640. 
 7* 
 
i3o Cgra ©trmanica. 
 
 FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 And who is he that will harm you, if ye be followers 
 of that which is good ? But and if ye fufFer for right- 
 eoufnefs* fake, happy are ye ; and be not afraid of their 
 terror, neither be troubled ; but fanclify the Lord God 
 in your hearts. — From the Epistle. 
 
 IF God be on my fide, 
 Then let who will oppofe, 
 For oft ere now to Him I cried 
 And He hath quell'd my foes. 
 If Jefus be my Friend, 
 If God doth love me well, 
 What matters all my foes intend, 
 Though ftrong they be and fell. 
 
 Here I can firmly reft, 
 
 I dare to boaft of this, 
 That God the Higheft and the Beft, 
 
 My Friend and Father is. 
 
 From dangerous fhares He faves, 
 
 Where'er He bids me go 
 He checks the ftorms and calms the waves, 
 
 Nor lets aught work me woe. 
 
 I reft upon the ground 
 . Of Jefus and His blood, 
 For 'tis through Him that I have found 
 The True Eternal Good. 
 
Cgra CSermamca. 13 > 
 
 Nought have I of mine own, 
 Nought in the life I lead, 
 What Chrift hath given me, that alone 
 Is worth all love indeed. 
 
 His Spirit in me dwells, 
 O'er all my mind He reigns, 
 
 All care and fadnefs He difpels, 
 And foothes away all pains. 
 He profpers day by day 
 His work within my heart, 
 
 Till I have ftrength and faith to fay, 
 Thou God my Father art! 
 
 When weaknefs on me lies 
 And tempts me to defpair, 
 
 He ipeaketh words and utters fighs 
 Of more than mortal prayer; 
 But what no tongue can tell, 
 Thou God canft hear and fee, 
 
 Who readeft in the heart full well 
 If aught there pleafeth Thee. 
 
 He whifpers in my breaft 
 
 Sweet words of holy cheer, 
 How he who feeks in God his reft 
 
 Shall ever find Him near; 
 
 How God hath built above 
 
 A city fair and new, 
 Where eye and heart mail fee and prove 
 
 What faith has counted true. 
 
l 3 2 Cgra (Sformanica. 
 
 There is prepared on high 
 
 My heritage, my lot; 
 Though here on earth I fall and die, 
 
 My heaven fhall fail me not. 
 
 Though here my days are dark, 
 
 And oft my tears mull rain, 
 Whene'er my Saviour's light I mark, 
 
 All things grow bright again. 
 
 Who joins him to that Lord 
 Whom Satan flies and hates, 
 
 Shall find himfelf defpifed, abhorr'd, 
 For him the burden waits 
 Of mockery and fhame, 
 Heap'd on his guild efs head; 
 
 And crofTes, trials, cruel blame, 
 Shall be his daily bread. 
 
 I knew it long ere now, 
 
 Yet am I not afraid; 
 The God to whom I pledged my vow, 
 
 Will furely fend His aid. 
 
 At coft of all I have, 
 
 At coft of life and limb, ' 
 I cling to God who yet fhall fave, 
 
 I will not turn from Him. 
 
 The world may fail and flee, 
 Thou ftandeft faft for ever, 
 Not fire, or fword, or plague, from Thee 
 My trufting foul fhall fever. 
 
No hunger, and no thirft, 
 No poverty or pain, 
 Let mighty princes do their worft, 
 Shall fright me back again. 
 
 No joys that angels know, 
 
 No throne or wide-fpread fame, 
 No love or lofs, no fear or woe, 
 
 No grief of heart or fhame — 
 
 Man cannot aught conceive 
 
 Of pleafure or of harm, 
 That e'er could tempt my foul to leave 
 
 Her refuge in Thine arm. 
 
 My heart for gladneß fprings, 
 
 It cannot more be fad, 
 For very joy it laughs and fings, 
 
 Sees nought but mnfhine glad. 
 
 The fun that glads mine eyes 
 
 Is Chrift the Lord I love, 
 I fing for joy of that which lies 
 
 Stored up for us above. 
 
 Paul Gerhardt. 1650. 
 
1 34 ffgra ©ermamca. 
 
 SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 Know ye not, that fo many of us as were baptized 
 into Chrift, were baptized into His death ? — From the 
 Epistle. 
 
 W 
 
 ELL for him who all things lofing, 
 E'en himfelf doth count as nought, 
 Still the one thing needful choofing 
 That with all true blifs is fraught! 
 
 Well for him who nothing knoweth 
 But his God, whofe boundlefs love 
 
 Makes the heart wherein it gloweth, 
 Calm and pure as faints above ! 
 
 Well for him who all forfeiting, 
 Walketh not in fhadows vain, 
 
 But the path of peace is taking 
 
 Through this vale of tears and pain ! 
 
 Oh that we our hearts might fever 
 From earth's tempting vanities, 
 
 Fixing them on Him for ever 
 In whom all our fulnefs lies ! 
 
 Oh that we might Him difcover 
 
 Whom with longing love we've fought, 
 
 Join ourfelves to Him for ever, 
 For without Him all is nought! 
 
Cgra (Sformamca. 135 
 
 Oh that ne'er our eyes might wander 
 From our God, fo might we ceafe 
 
 Ever o'er our fins to ponder, 
 And our confcience be at peace ! 
 
 Thou abyfs of love and goodnefs, 
 
 Draw us by Thy crofs to Thee, 
 That our fenfes, foul and fpirit, 
 
 Ever one with Chrift may be! 
 
 Anon. 
 
*3 6 Cgra ©rnnanica. 
 
 SEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 O Lord, how manifold are Thy works ; in wifdom 
 haft Thou made them all; the earth is full of Thy 
 riches. — Psalm civ. 24. 
 
 GO forth, my heart, and feek delight 
 In all the gifts of God's great might, 
 
 Thefe pleafant rummer hours: 
 Look how the plains for thee and me 
 Have deck'd themfelves moll fair to fee, 
 All bright and fweet with flowers. 
 
 The trees ftand thick and dark with leaves, 
 And earth o'er all her dull now weaves 
 
 A robe of living green ; 
 Nor lilks of Solomon compare 
 With glories that the tulips wear, 
 
 Or lilies' fpotlefi fheen. 
 
 The lark foars ringing into fpace, 
 The dove forfakes her hiding-place, 
 
 And coos the woods among; 
 The richly-gifted nightingale, 
 Pours forth her voice o'er hill and dale, 
 
 And floods the fields with fbng. 
 
 Here with her brood the hen doth walk, 
 There builds and guards his neft the flork, 
 The fleet-wing'd fwallows pafs; 
 
Crira ©nrmcmica. 1 37 
 
 The fwift flag leaves his rocky home, 
 And down the light deer bounding come 
 To tafle the long rich grafs. 
 
 The brooks rufh gurgling through the fand, 
 And from the trees on either hand, 
 
 Cool ihadows o'er them fall ; 
 The meadows at their fide are glad 
 With herds; and hark! the fhepherd lad 
 
 Sends forth his mirthful call. 
 
 And humming, hovering to and fro, 
 The never-wearied fwarms forth go 
 
 To feek their honey'd food ; 
 And through the vine's yet feeble moots 
 Stream daily upwards from her roots 
 
 New ftrength and juices good. 
 
 The corn fprings up, a wealth untold, 
 A fight to gladden young and old, 
 
 Who now their voices lift 
 To Him who gives fuch plenteous ftore, 
 And makes the cup of life run o'er 
 
 With many a noble gift. 
 
 Thy mighty working, mighty God, 
 Wakes all my powers; I look abroad 
 
 And can no longer reft: 
 I too muft fing when all things fing, 
 And from my heart the praifes ring 
 
 The Higheft loveth beft. 
 
*3 8 Cgra ©armantca. 
 
 I think, Art Thou fo good to us, 
 And fcattereft joy and beauty thus 
 
 O'er this poor earth of ours ; 
 What nobler glories fhall be given 
 Hereafter in Thy fhining heaven, 
 
 Set round with golden towers ! 
 
 What thrilling joy when on our fight 
 Chrift's garden beams in cloudlefs light, 
 
 Where all the air is fweet, 
 Still laden with the unwearied hymn 
 From all the thoufand feraphim 
 
 Who God's high praife repeat! 
 
 Oh were I there ! Oh that I now, 
 
 Dear God, before Thy throne could bow, 
 
 And bear my heavenly palm! 
 Then like the angels would I raife 
 My voice, and fing Thy endlefs praife 
 
 In many a fweet-toned pfalm. 
 
 Nor can I now, O God, forbear, 
 Though flill this mortal yoke I wear, 
 
 To utter oft Thy name; 
 But ftill my heart is bent to fpeak 
 Thy praifes; ftill, though poor and weak, 
 
 Would I fet forth Thy fame. 
 
 But help me; let Thy heavenly fhowers 
 Revive and blefs my fainting powers, 
 And let me thrive and grow 
 
jtgra ©mnantca. l 39 
 
 Beneath the fummer of Thy grace, 
 
 And fruits of faith bud forth apace 
 
 While yet I dwell below. 
 
 And fet me, Lord, in Paradife 
 
 When I have bloomed beneath thefe ikies 
 
 Till my laft leaf is flown ; 
 Thus let me ierve Thee here in time, 
 And after, in that happier clime, 
 
 And Thee, my God, alone! 
 
 Paul Gerhardt. 1659. 
 
EIGHTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 Brethren, we are debtors, not to the flefh, to live 
 after the flefh. For if ye live after the fiefh, ye fliall 
 die ; but if ye through the Spirit do mortify the deeds 
 of the body, ye (hall live. — From the Epistle. 
 
 OGOD, O Spirit, Light of all that live, 
 Who doll on us that fit in darknefs 
 fhine, 
 Our darknefs ever with Thy light doth 
 drive, 
 In vain Thou lur'fl us with Thy beams divine. 
 Yet none, O Spirit, from Thine eye can hide, 
 Gladly will I Thy fearching glance abide. ' 
 
 Search all my hidden parts, whate'er impure 
 
 Thy Light difcovers there, do Thou deftroy; 
 The bitterefl painl willingly endure, 
 Such pain is folio w'd by eternal joy. 
 Thou'lt cleanfe me from my flains of darkefl hue, 
 And in Chrifl's image form my foul anew. 
 
 I cannot flay the venom'd power of fin, 
 
 'Tis Thy anointing only can avail; 
 Oh make my fpirit new and right within, 
 For without Thee my utmofl efforts fail. 
 Life to my cold dead foul I cannot give, 
 Be Thou my life, fo only fhall I live. 
 
Cgra (Jkrmamca. H» 
 
 O Breath from out the Eternal Silence, blow 
 
 All foftly o'er my fpirit's barren ground, 
 All precious fulnefs of my God beftow, 
 
 That where erft fin and fhame alone were found, 
 Faith, love, and holy reverence may upfpring, 
 In fpirit and in truth to worfhip God our King. 
 
 Oh let my thoughts, my actions and my will 
 
 Obedient folely to Thy impulfe move, 
 My heart and fenfes keep Thou blamelefs ftill, 
 Fix'd and abforb'd in God's unutter'd love. 
 Thy praying, teaching, ftriving, in my heart, 
 Let me not quench, nor make Thee to depart. 
 
 Fount, O Spirit, who doft take and fhow 
 Things of the Son to us, who cryftal clear, 
 
 From God's throne and the Lamb's, doft ceafelefs 
 flow 
 Into the quiet hearts that feek Thee here ; 
 I open wide my mouth, and thirfting fink 
 Beflde Thy ftream, its living waves to drink. 
 
 1 give myfelf to Thee, to Thee alone, 
 
 From all elfe funder'd, Thou art ever near, 
 The creature and myfelf I all difown, 
 
 Trufling with inmoft faith that God is here! 
 O God, O Spirit, Light of Life, we fee 
 None ever wait in vain, who wait for Thee. 
 
 Tersteegen. i 73 i. 
 
'4 2 fgra Owmanka. 
 
 NINTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 How long halt ye between two opinions ? If the 
 Lord be God, follow Him ; but if Baal, then follow 
 him. — From the Lesson. 
 
 WHY halteft thus, deluded heart, 
 Why wavereft longer in thy choice? 
 Is it fo hard to choofe the part 
 OfFer'd by Heaven's entreating voice? 
 Oh look with clearer eyes again, 
 Nor ftrive to enter in, in vain. 
 
 Prefs on! 
 
 Remember, 'tis not Caefar's throne, 
 Nor earthly honour, wealth or might, 
 
 Whereby God's favour fhall be fhown 
 To him who conquers in this fight; 
 
 Himfelf and an eternity 
 
 Of blifs and reft He offers thee. 
 
 Prefs on ! 
 
 God crowneth no divided heart; 
 
 Oh hallow to Him all thy life ! 
 Who loveth Jefus but in part, 
 
 He works himfelf much pain and ftrife, 
 And gains what he defer veth well, 
 Here conflict, and hereafter hell. 
 
 Prefs on! 
 
Cgra Germanica. H3 
 
 Who wreitling long with many a cry, 
 
 Can bid farewell at laft to all; 
 Yet loveth frill the Lord moft High, 
 
 Loves Him alone whate'er befall, 
 Is counted worthy of the crown 
 And on a kingly throne fet down. 
 
 Prefs on! 
 
 Then break the rotten bonds away 
 
 That hinder you your race to run, 
 That make you linger oft and flay; 
 
 Oh be your courfe afrefh begun! 
 Let no falfe reft your foul deceive, 
 Up ! 'tis a Heaven ye muft achieve ! 
 
 Prefs on! 
 
 Omnipotence is on your fide, 
 
 And wifdom watches o'er your heads, 
 
 And God Himfelf will be your guide 
 So ye but follow where He leads; 
 
 How many guided by His hand, 
 
 Have reach'd ere now their native land. 
 
 Prefs on! 
 
 Let not the body dull the foul, 
 
 Its weaknefs, fears, and floth defpife; 
 
 Man toils and roams from pole to pole 
 To gain fome earthly fleeting prize, 
 
 The Higheft Good he little cares 
 
 To win, or flriving foon defpairs. 
 
 Prefs on. 
 
*44 Cgra ©nmanka. 
 
 Oh help each other, haften on, 
 
 Behold the goal is nigh at hand; 
 Soon fhall the battle-field be won, 
 
 Soon fhall your King before you ftand! 
 To calmeft reft He leads you now, 
 And fets His crown upon your brow. 
 
 Prefs on. 
 
 Lehr. 1733. 
 
TENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 As the hart panteth after the water brooks, even fc 
 panteth my foul after Thee, O God. — Psalm xlii. i. 
 
 O 
 
 GOD, I long Thy light to fee, 
 My God, I hourly think on Thee; 
 Oh draw me up, nor hide Thy face, 
 But help me from Thy holy place. 
 
 Ah how fhall I my freedom win? 
 How break this heavy yoke of fin ? 
 My fainting fpirit thirfts for Thee, 
 Come, Lord, to help and fet me free. 
 
 My heart is fet to do Thy will, 
 But all my deeds are faulty flill; 
 My bell attempts are nothing worth, 
 But foil'd with cleaving taint of earth. 
 
 Remember that I am Thy child, 
 Forgive whate'er my foul defiled, 
 Blot out my fins, that I may rife 
 Freely to Thee beyond the fkies. 
 
 Help me to love the world no more, 
 Be Malier of my houfe and flore, 
 The fhield of faith around me throw, 
 And break the arrows of my foe. 
 8 
 
H 6 £m*a (fömnamca. 
 
 Fain would my heart henceforward be 
 Fix'd, O my God, alone on Thee, 
 That heart and foul by Thee pofTeft, 
 May find in Thee their perfect reft. 
 
 Begone, ye pleafures falfe and vain, 
 Untafted, undelired remain! 
 In heaven alone thofe joys abound, 
 Where all my true delight is found. 
 
 Oh take away whate'er has flood 
 Between me and the Higheft Good; 
 I afk no better boon than this, 
 To find in God my only blifs. 
 
 Anton Uliich, 
 Duke of Brunfwick. 1667. 
 
Cum ©annanica. l M 
 
 ELEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 In Thy prefence is fulnefs of joy ; at Thy right 
 hand there are pleafures for evermore. — Psalm xvi. u. 
 
 O FRIEND of fouls, how well is me 
 Whene'er Thy love my fpirit calms ! 
 From forrow's dungeon forth I flee, 
 And hide me in Thy fhelt'ring arms. 
 The night of weeping flies away 
 Before the heart-reviving ray 
 
 Of love, that beams from out Thy breaft; 
 Here is my heaven on earth begun; 
 Who were not joyful had he won 
 In Thee, O God, his joy and reft! 
 
 The world may call herfelf my foe, 
 
 So be it ; for I trull: her not, 
 E'en though a friendly face ihe mow, 
 
 And heap with her good things my lot. 
 In Thee alone will I rejoice, 
 Thou art the Friend, Lord, of my choice, 
 
 For Thou art true when friendfhips fail; 
 'Mid ftorms of woe Thy truth is ftill 
 My anchor; hate me as it will, 
 
 The world fhall o'er me ne'er prevail. 
 
 Through deferts of the crofs Thou leadeft, 
 I follow leaning on Thy hand ; 
 
From out the clouds Thy child Thou feedefl, 
 And giv'ft him water from the fand. 
 
 I know Thy wondrous ways will end 
 
 In love and blefling, Thou true Friend, 
 Enough if Thou art ever near! 
 
 I know, whom Thou wilt glorify, 
 
 And raife o'er fun and flars on high, 
 
 Thou lead'ft through depths and darknefs here. 
 
 To others Death feems dark and grim, 
 
 But not, Thou Life of life, to me; 
 I know Thou ne'er forfakeft him 
 
 Whofe heart and fpirit reft in Thee. 
 Oh who would fear his journey's clofe, 
 If from dark woods and lurking foes, 
 
 He then find fafety and releafe? 
 Nay, rather with a joyful heart 
 From this dark region I depart, 
 
 To Thy eternal light and peace. 
 
 O Friend of fouls, then well indeed 
 
 Is me, when on Thy love I lean! 
 The world, nor pain, nor death I heed, 
 
 Since Thou, my God, my joy haft been. 
 Oh let this peace that Thou haft given, 
 Be but a foretafte of Thy heaven, 
 
 For goodnefs infinite is Thine. 
 Hence, world, with all thy flattering toys! 
 In God alone lie all my joys; 
 
 Oh rich delight, my Friend is mine ! 
 
 Deszler. 1692, 
 
Cgra <8>mnamca. 149 
 
 TWELFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 Not that we are fufficient of ourfelves to think any- 
 thing as of ourfelves, but our fufficiency is of God. — 
 From the Epistle. 
 
 w 
 
 HO feeks in weaknefs an excufe, 
 His fins will vancmifh never; 
 Unlefs he heart and mind renews, 
 He is deceived for ever. 
 The ftraight and narrow way, 
 That mines to perfect day, 
 He hath not found, hath never trod ; 
 Little he knows, I ween, 
 What prayer and conflict mean 
 To one who hath the light of God. 
 
 [n what the world calls weaknefs lurks 
 
 The very ftrength of evil, 
 
 Full mightily it helps the works 
 
 Of our great foe the devil. 
 
 Awake, my foul, awake, 
 
 Quickly thy refuge take 
 With Him, the Almighty, who can fave 
 
 One look from Chrift thy Lord 
 
 Can fever every cord 
 That binds thee now, a wretched Have. 
 
«5° fgra (Btermamca. 
 
 Know, the fir ft ftep in Chriftian lore 
 
 Is to depart from fin; 
 True faith will leave the world no more 
 A place thy heart within. 
 Thy Saviour's Spirit firft 
 The heavy bonds muft burft, 
 Wherein Death bound thee in thy need; 
 Then the freed fpirit knows 
 What ftrength He gives to thofe 
 Who with their Lord are rifen indeed. 
 
 And what Thy Spirit, Lord, began 
 
 Help Thou with inner might ! 
 Earth has no better gift for man 
 
 Than ftrength and love of right. 
 Oh make Thy followers juft 
 Who, look to Thee in truft, 
 
 Thy ftrength and juftice let us know; 
 Our fouls through Thee would wear 
 The power of grace, moft fair 
 
 Of all the jewels faith can fhow. 
 
 Strong Son of God, break down Thy foes, 
 
 So Ihall we conquer ours; 
 Strong in the might from Thee that flows, 
 We mourn not lack of powers, 
 
 E'er fince that from above, 
 
 The witnefs of Thy love 
 Thy Spirit came, and doth abide 
 
 With us, dispelling fear 
 
 And falfehood, that we here 
 May fight and conquer on Thv fide. 
 
Cgra (Sformamca. I 5 I 
 
 Give ftrength, whene'er our ftrength mull fail; 
 
 Give ftrength the flefh to curb; 
 Give ftrength when craft and fin prevail 
 To weaken and difturb. 
 
 The world doth lay her fnares 
 To catch us unawares, 
 Give ftrength to fweep them all away; 
 So in our utmoft need, 
 And when death comes indeed, 
 Thy ftrength ihall be our perfect ftay. 
 
 Marperger. 1713. 
 
*S 2 Cgra (germanica. 
 
 THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 Then Hezekiah received the letter of the hands of 
 the meflengers, and read it, and Hezekiah went up into 
 the houfe of the Lord, and fpread it before the Lord.— 
 From the Lesson. 
 
 LEAVE God to order all thy ways, 
 And hope in Him whate'er betide, 
 Thou'lt find Him in the evil days 
 Thy all-fufficient itrength and guide; 
 Who trulls in God's unchanging love, 
 Builds on the rock that nought can move. 
 
 What can thefe anxious cares avail, 
 Thefe never-ceaiing moans and lighs? 
 
 What can it help us to bewail 
 Each painful moment as it flies? 
 
 Our crofs and trials do but prefs 
 
 The heavier for our bitternefs. 
 
 Only thy refllefs heart keep ftill, 
 And wait in cheerful hope; content 
 
 To take whate'er His gracious will, 
 His all-difcerning love hath fent. 
 
 Doubt not our inmoft wants are known 
 
 To Him who chofe us for His own. 
 
Cgra ©rnnanica. 153 
 
 He knows when joyful hours are beft, 
 
 He fends them as He fees it meet; 
 When thou haft borne the fiery teft, 
 
 And art made free from all deceit, 
 He comes to thee all unaware, 
 And makes thee own His loving care. 
 
 Nor, in the heat of pain and ftrife, 
 
 Think God hath call thee off unheard, 
 
 And that the man, whofe profperous life 
 Thou envieft, is of Him preferr'd. 
 
 Time pafles and much change doth bring, 
 
 And fets a bound to everything. 
 
 All are alike before His face ; 
 
 5 Tis eafy to our God moft High 
 To make the rich man poor and bafe, 
 
 To give the poor man wealth and joy. 
 True wonders ftill by Him are wrought, 
 Who fetteth up, and brings to nought. 
 
 Sing, pray, and fwerve not from His ways, 
 
 But do thine own part faithfully, 
 Traft His rich promifes of grace, 
 
 So mall they be fulfiU'd in thee; 
 God never yet forfook at need 
 The foul that trufted Him indeed. 
 
 Neumarck. i 65 3. 
 8* 
 
»5+ Cgra (Germanica. 
 
 FOURTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 And they that are Chrift's have crucified the flefli 
 with, the affections and lufts. — From the Epistle. 
 
 O 
 
 CROSS, we hail thy bitter reign, 
 O come, thou well-beloved gueft! 
 
 Whofe foreft fufferings work not pain, 
 Whofe heavieft burden is but reft. 
 
 Is not our Bleffed Saviour bound 
 
 In clofeft ties of love to thofe 
 Who faithful to the crofs are found, 
 
 Through ceafelefs tears, through faddeft woes? 
 
 Hark, the confeflbrs of the faith 
 Yet of their crofs and fetters boaft ; 
 
 All faints have borne it to the death, 
 With all the martyrs' radiant hoft. 
 
 Pledge of our glorious home afar ! 
 
 Thee, Holy Sign, with joy we take, 
 Sign of a peace life could not mar, 
 
 Of juft content death could not ihake. 
 
 Thou tell'H: how Truth, once crucified, 
 Now throned in majefty doth reign, 
 
Cgra ©ermamca. *5S 
 
 How love is blefs'd and glorified, 
 
 That here on earth was mock'd and (lain. 
 
 Their names are writ in words of light 
 Who before men their Lord confeft ; 
 
 The bridegroom's cry is heard at night, 
 Come to my marriage feaft, ye bleft! 
 
 Who then would faint, nor joy to fhare 
 In Chrift's reproach, in want or pain? 
 
 The bittereft death who would not dare? 
 Who fears a martyr's crown to gain? 
 
 Up, Brethren of the Crofs ! and hafte 
 Onward where Chrift hath gone before ! 
 
 We hymn His praife the while we tafte 
 The fhame and death He fometime bore« 
 
 In bonds and ftripes, in falfeft blame, 
 Our crown, our deareft wealth we fee, 
 
 A prifon were a throne, and fhame 
 Our chiefeft glory, borne for Thee. 
 
 What though the world contempt may fling 
 On us, though oft we ftrive with death, 
 
 The holy angels fpeed to bring 
 
 Our he p and ftrength, our victor's wreath. 
 
 Up, quit the gates where fin abides, 
 
 From earth's doom'd cities quickly come, 
 
 Yon eaftern Star full furely guides 
 AU pilgrims to their Father's home. 
 
 GOTTER. 1697. 
 
»5 6 Cgra (fättmanka. 
 
 FIFTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 Therefore take no thought, faying, What fhall we 
 eat, or what fhall we drink . . for your Heavenly 
 Father knoweth that ye have need of all thefe things. 
 — From the Gospel. 
 
 BE thou content; be frill before 
 His face, at whofe right hand doth reign 
 Fulnefs of joy for evermore, 
 Without whom all thy toil is vain. 
 He is thy living fpring, thy fun, whofe rays 
 Make glad with life and light thy dreary days. 
 
 Be thou content. 
 
 Art thou all friendlefs and alone, 
 
 Haft none in whom thou canft confide? 
 God careth for thee, lonely one, 
 Comfort and help will He provide. 
 He fees thy forrows and thy hidden grief, 
 He knoweth when to fend thee quick relief; 
 
 Be thou content. 
 
 Thy heart's unfpoken pain He knows, 
 Thy fecret fighs He hears full well, 
 What to none elfe thou dar'fh difclofe, 
 To Him thou mayft with boldnefs tell. 
 He is not far away, but ever nigh, 
 And anfwereth willingly the poor man's cry. 
 
 Be thou content. 
 
Cgva (germanica. *57 
 
 Why art thou full of anxious fear 
 
 How thou fhalt be fuftain'd and fed? 
 He who hath made and placed thee here, 
 Will give thee needful daily bread. 
 Canft thou not trull His rich and bounteous hand, 
 Who feeds all living things on fea and land? 
 
 Be thou content. 
 
 He who doth teach the little birds 
 
 To find their meat in field and wood, 
 Who gives the countlefs flocks and herds, 
 Each day their needful drink and food, 
 Thy hunger too will furely fatisfy, 
 And all thy wants in His good time fupply. 
 
 Be thou content. 
 
 •Sayft thou, I know not how or where, 
 
 No help I fee where'er I turn; 
 When of all elfe we mofl derpair, 
 The riches of God's love we learn; 
 When thou and I His hand no longer trace, 
 He leads us forth into a pleafant place. 
 
 Be thou content. 
 
 Though long His promifed aid delay, 
 
 At lad it will be furely fent; 
 Though thy heart fink in fore difinay, 
 The trial for thy good is meant. 
 What we have won with pains we hold more faft, 
 What tarrieth long is fweeter at the laft. 
 
 Be thou content. 
 
'S 8 Cgra ©ermanica. 
 
 Lay not to heart whate'er of ill 
 
 Thy foes may falfely fpeak of thee, 
 Let man defame thee as he will, 
 God hears, and judges righteoufly. 
 Why fhouldft thou fear, if God be on thy fide, 
 Man's cruel anger, or malicious pride ? 
 
 Be thou content. 
 
 We know for us a reft remains, 
 
 When God will give us fweet releafe 
 From earth and all our mortal chains, 
 And turn our fufferings into peace. 
 Sooner or later death will furely come 
 To end our förrows, and to take us home. 
 
 Be thou content. 
 
 Home to the chofen ones, who here 
 
 Served their Lord faithfully and well, 
 Who died in peace, without a fear, 
 And there in peace for ever dwell. 
 The Everlafting is their joy and ftay, 
 The Eternal Word Himfelf to them doth fay, 
 
 Be thou content. 
 Paul Gerhardt. 1670. 
 
Cura (Germanica. l 59 
 
 SIXTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 
 
 And when the Lord faw her, He had compaflion on 
 her and faid unto her, Weep not ! — From the Gosfel. 
 
 LEAVE all to God, 
 Forfaken one, and ftill thy tears. 
 
 For the Higheft knows thy pain, 
 Sees thy fufFerings and thy fears; 
 Thou (halt not wait His help in vain, 
 Leave all to God. 
 
 Be ftill and traft! 
 For His ftrokes are ftrokes of love, 
 Thou muft for thy profit bear; 
 He thy filial fear would move, 
 Truft thy Father's loving care, 
 Be ftill and truft ! 
 
 Know, God is near! 
 Though thou think Him far away, 
 
 Though His mercy long have flept, 
 He will come and not delay, 
 
 When His child enough hath wept, 
 For God is near ! 
 
 O teach Him not 
 When and how to hear thy prayers; 
 
i6o fg ra (germanica. 
 
 Never doth our God forget, 
 He the crofs who longeft bears 
 Finds his forrows' bounds are fet, 
 Then teach Him not. 
 
 If thou love Him, 
 Walking truly in His ways, 
 
 Then no trouble, crofs or death, 
 Shakes thy heart, or quells thy praife. 
 All things ferve thee here beneath, 
 If thou love God ! 
 
 Anton Ulrich 
 Duke of Brunfwick. 1667, 
 
£gra Germanica. 161 
 
 SEVENTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 I befeech you that ye walk worthy of the vocation 
 wherewith ye are called, with all lowlinefs and meek- 
 nefs, with longfuffering, forbearing one another in love; 
 endeavouring to keep the unity of the fpirit in the bond 
 of peace. — From the Epistle. 
 
 COME, brethren, let us go ! 
 The evening clofeth round, 
 'Tis perilous to linger here 
 On this wild defert ground. 
 Take courage as ye wend 
 On towards eternity, 
 
 From ftrength to ftrength your courfe ihall be, 
 And good at lall your end. 
 
 We Ihall not rue our choice, 
 Though ftrait our path and fteep, 
 We know that He who call'd us here 
 His word Ihall ever keep. 
 Then follow, trufting; come, 
 
 And let each fet his face 
 
 Toward yonder fair and blefTed place, 
 Intent to reach our home. 
 
 The body and the houfe 
 Deck not, but deck the heart 
 
162 Cjira (Germanica. 
 
 With all your powers; we are but guefts, 
 
 Ere long we mull depart. 
 
 Eafe brings difeafe; content 
 Howe'er his lot may fall, 
 A pilgrim bears and bows to all, 
 
 For foon the time is fpent. 
 
 Come, children, let us go ! 
 
 Our Father is our guide; 
 And when the way grows fteep and dark, 
 
 He journeys at our fide. 
 
 Our fpirits He would cheer, 
 The funfhine of His love 
 Revives and helps us as we rove, 
 
 Ah, bleft our lot e'en here! 
 
 Each haften bravely on, 
 Not yet our goal is near; 
 Look to the fiery pillar oft, 
 That tells the Lord is here. 
 Onward your glances fend, 
 
 Love beckons us, nor think 
 
 That they 'who following chance to fink, 
 Shall mifs their journey's end. 
 
 Come, children, let us go ! 
 
 We travel hand in hand; 
 Each in his brother finds his joy 
 
 In this wild flranger land. 
 
 As children let us be, 
 Nor by the way fall out, 
 The angels guard us round about, 
 
 And help us brotherly. 
 
£m*ct ®*rmanica. 163 
 
 The ftrong be quick to raife 
 
 The weaker when they fall; 
 Let love and peace and patience bloom 
 
 In ready help for all. 
 
 In love yet clofer bound, 
 
 Each would be leaft, yet ftill 
 
 On love's fair path moil pure from ill, 
 
 Moft loving, would be found. 
 
 Come, wander on with joy, 
 For fhorter grows the way, 
 Each riling sun brings on the time 
 When in the grave we lay 
 The body down; awhile 
 
 Have truth and courage yet, 
 
 Your hopes above more fully fet, 
 Carelefs of things more vile- 
 It will not laft for long, 
 A little farther roam; 
 It will not laft much longer now 
 Ere we fhall reach our home; 
 There mail we ever reft, 
 
 There with our Father dwell, 
 
 With all the faints who ferved Him well, 
 There truly, deeply bleft. 
 
 For this all things we dare, — 
 'Tis worth the rifk I trow, — 
 Renouncing all that clogs our courfe, 
 Or weighs us down below. 
 
* 6 4 Cgra ©trmantca. 
 
 O world, thou art too fmall, 
 
 We feek another higher, 
 
 Whither Chrift guides us ever nigher, 
 Where God is all in all. 
 
 Friend of our perfect choice, 
 Thou Joy of all that live, 
 Being that know'ft not chance or change, 
 What courage doft Thou give! 
 All beauty, Lord, we fee, 
 All blifs and life and love, 
 In Him in whom we live and move, 
 And we are glad in Thee ! 
 
 Tersteegen. i 73 1. 
 
Cgra (Ewmanka. ^5 
 
 EIGHTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 Waiting for the coming of our I ord Jefus Chrift, 
 who fhall alfo confirm you unto the end. — From THE 
 Epistle. 
 
 THOUGH all to Thee were faithlefs, 
 I yet were true my Head, 
 To mow that love is deathlefs, 
 From earth not wholly fled. 
 Here didft Thou live* in fadnefs, 
 
 And die in pain for me, 
 Wherefore I give with gladnefs, 
 My heart and foul to Thee. 
 
 I could weep night and morning 
 
 That Thou haft died, and yet 
 So few will heed Thy warning, 
 
 So many Thee forget. 
 O loving and true-hearted, 
 
 How much for us didft Thou! - 
 Yet is Thy fame departed, 
 
 And none regards it now. 
 
 But ftill Thy love befriends us, 
 
 Of every heart the guide; 
 Unfailing help it lends us, 
 
 Though all had turn'd afide. 
 
i66 £gva ©armanica. 
 
 Oh! fuch love foon or later 
 Muft conquer, mull be felt, 
 
 Then at Thy feet the traitor 
 In bitter tears fhall melt. 
 
 Lord, I have inly found Thee, 
 
 Depart Thou not from me, 
 But wrap Thy love around me, 
 
 And keep me clofe to Thee. 
 Once too my brethren, yonder 
 
 Upgazing where Thou art, 
 Shall learn Thy love with wonder, 
 
 And fink upon Thy heart. 
 
 Novalis. 
 
 About 1795, 
 
£m*a Germanica. l6 7 
 
 NINETEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 But ye have not fo learned Chriit ; if fo be that ye 
 have heard Him, and have been taught by Him, as 
 the truth is in Jefus : that ye put off, concerning the 
 former converfation, the old man, which is corrupt 
 according to the deceitful lufts ; and be renewed in 
 the fpirit of your mind ; and that ye put on the new 
 man, which after God is created in righteoufnefs and 
 true holinefs. — From the Epistle. 
 
 OH well for him who all things braves, 
 A foldier of the Lord to be, 
 Whom vice counts not among her flaves, 
 From envy, pride and pailion free; 
 Who with the world of evil wars, 
 And bows his will beneath God's laws. 
 
 Who follows Chrift whate'er betide, 
 
 Is worthy of a foldier's name; 
 Is He thy Way, thy Light, thy Guide, 
 
 'Tis meet thou alfo bear His fhame : 
 Who fhrinks from dark Gethfemane, 
 Shall Tabor's glories never fee. 
 
 What profits it that Chrift hath deign'd 
 To wear our mortal nature thus, 
 
 If we ourfelves have ne'er attain'd 
 That God reveal Himfelf in us ? 
 
168 Cgra <8>mnamca. 
 
 The pure and virgin foul alone 
 He choofeth for His earthly throne. 
 
 What profits it that Chrift is born, 
 And bringeth childhood back to men, 
 
 Unlefs our long-loil right we mourn, 
 And win through penitence again, 
 
 And lead a God-like life on earth, 
 
 As children of the fecond birth? 
 
 What profits all that Chrift hath taught, 
 If man is flave to reafon ftill, 
 
 And worldly wifdom, honour, thought, 
 Rule all his ads, and move his will? 
 
 He follows what his Lord doth teach 
 
 Who true denial of felf would reach. 
 
 What profit us His deeds and life, 
 His meeknefs, love fo quick to blefs, 
 
 If we give place to pride and flrife, 
 Difhonouring thus His holinefs ? 
 
 What profits it, if for reward, 
 
 And not in faith, we call Him Lord? 
 
 What profits us His agony, 
 
 If we endure not pain and fcorn ? 
 
 'Tis combat brings forth victory, 
 Of forrow fweeteft joys are born; 
 
 And ne'er to him Chrift's crown is given, 
 
 Who hath not here with Adam ftriven. 
 
 What profit ye His death and crofs, 
 Unlefs to felf ye alfo die ? 
 
fijra (germanica. l6 9 
 
 Ye love your life to find it lofs, 
 
 AfraiS. the flefh to crucify. 
 Wouldft live to this world flill? Then know, 
 Chrifl's death to thee is barren mow. 
 
 What profit that he loofed and broke 
 
 All bonds, if ye in league remain 
 With earth ? Who weareth Satan's yoke 
 
 Shall call Him Mailer but in vain. 
 Count ye the foul for reconciled, 
 Yet flave to earth, by fin defiled? 
 
 What profits it that He is rifen, 
 
 If dead in fins thou yet doft lie? 
 If yet thou cleavefl to thy prifon, 
 
 What profit that He dwells on high? 
 His triumph will avail thee nought, 
 If thou hail ne'er the battle fought. 
 
 Then live and fuffer, do and bear, 
 As Chrifl thy pattern here hath done, 
 
 And feek His innocence to wear, 
 
 That He may count thee of His own. 
 
 Who loveth Chriil mufl live at war 
 
 With all that breaks His holy law. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 t 
 
*7° tQxa Qbtxmatnta. 
 
 TWENTIETH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 Singing and making melody in your heart unto the 
 Lord ; giving thanks always for all things unto God 
 and the Father, in the name of our Lord Jefus Chrift. 
 — From the Epistle. 
 
 OH would I had a thoufand tongues, 
 To found Thy praife o'er land and fea ! 
 Oh ! rich and fweet fhould be my fongs, 
 Of all my God has done for me ! 
 With thankfulnefs my heart muft often fwell, 
 But mortal lips Thy praifes faintly tell. 
 
 Oh that my voice could far refound 
 
 Up to yon ftars that o'er me mine ! 
 Would that my blood for joy might bound 
 Through every vein, while life is mine! 
 Would that each pulfe were gratitude, each breath 
 A fong to Him who keeps me fafe from death! 
 
 O all ye powers of foul and mind, 
 
 Arife, keep iilence thus no more; 
 Put forth your ftrength, and ye fhall find 
 Your nobleft work is to adore. 
 O foul and body, make ye pure and meet, 
 With heartfelt praife your God and Lord to greet. 
 
L 
 
 €ma Germanica. I7 
 
 Ye little leaves fo frefh and green, 
 
 That dance for joy in fummer air, 
 Ye flender grafles, bright and keen, 
 
 Ye flowers fo wondrous fweet and fair; 
 Ye only live to fhow your Maker's fame, 
 Help me his loving-kindnefs to proclaim. 
 
 O all ye living things that throng 
 
 With breath and motion earth and fky, 
 Be ye companions in my fong, 
 
 Help me to raife His praifes high; 
 For my unaided powers are far too weak 
 The glories of His mighty works to fpeak. 
 
 And firft, O Father, praife to Thee 
 
 For all I am and all I have, 
 It was Thy merciful decree 
 
 That all thofe blemngs richly gave, 
 Which o'er the earth are fcatter'd far and near, 
 To help and gladden us who fojourn here. 
 
 And, dearefl Jefus, bleft be Thou, 
 
 Whofe heart with pity overflows, 
 Thou rich in help ! who deign'dfl to bow 
 To earth, and tafle her keenefl woes; 
 Thy death has buril my bonds and fet me free, 
 Has made me Thine; henceforth I cling to Thee. 
 
 Nor lefs to Thee, O Holy Ghoft, 
 
 Be everlafling honours paid, 
 For all Thy comfort, Lord, and moil 
 
 That I a child of life am made 
 
By Thy deep lore; my good deeds are not mine, 
 Thou workeil them through me, O light Divine. 
 
 Yes, Lord, through all my changing days, 
 
 With each new fcene afrelh I mark 
 
 How wondroufly Thou guid'ft my ways, 
 
 Where all feems troubled, wilder'd, dark; 
 
 When dangers thicken fall, and hopes depart, 
 
 Thy light beams comfort on my linking heart. 
 
 Shall I not then be fill'd with joy, 
 
 Shall I not praife Thee evermore? 
 Triumphant fongs my lips employ, 
 E'en when my cup of woe runs o'er. 
 Nay, though the heavens fhould vanifh as a fcroll, 
 Nothing ihall ihake or daunt my trufting foul. 
 
 But of Thy goodnefs will I ling 
 
 As long as I have life and breath, 
 Offerings of thanks I daily bring 
 Until my heart is frill in death; 
 And when at laft my lips grow pale and cold, 
 Vet in my fighs Thy praifes fhall be told. 
 
 Father, do Thou in mercy deign 
 
 To liften to my early lays; 
 Once fhall I learn a nobler ftrain, 
 
 Where angels ever hymn Thy praife, 
 There in the radiant choir I too fhall fing 
 Loud hallelujahs to my glorious King. 
 
 Mentzer. 1704. 
 
Cgrct ©trmamca. »73 
 
 TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 Be ftrong in the Lord, and in the power of His might. 
 Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able 
 to Hand againft the wiles of the devil. For we wreftle 
 not againft flefh and blood, but againft principalities, 
 againft powers, againft the rulers of the darknefs of this 
 world, againft fpiritual wickednefs in high places.— 
 From the Epistle. 
 
 GOD is our flronghold firm and lure, 
 Our trufty fhield and weapon, 
 He mail deliver us, whate'er 
 
 Of ill to us may happen. 
 Our ancient Enemy 
 In earneft now is he, 
 Much craft and great might 
 Arm him for the right, 
 On earth is not his fellow. 
 
 Our might is nought but weaknefs, foon 
 
 Should we the battle lofe, 
 But for us fights the rightful Man, 
 Whom God Himfelf doth choofe. 
 Afkeft thou His name? 
 'Tis Jefus Chrift, the fame 
 Whom Lord of Hofls we call, 
 God only over all; 
 None from the field can drive Him* 
 
*74 Cjjva ©cnnanira. 
 
 What though the world were full of fiends, 
 
 That would us fneer devour ! 
 We know we yet fhall win the day, 
 We fear not all their power. 
 The Prince of this world Hill 
 May ftruggle as he will, 
 He nothing can prevail, 
 A word fhall make him quail, 
 For he is judged of Heaven. 
 
 The word of God they fhall not touch, 
 
 Yet have no thanks therefor, 
 God by His Spirit and His gifts, 
 Is with us in the war. 
 
 Then let them take our life, 
 Goods, honour, children, wife, 
 Though nought of thefe we fave, 
 Small profit fhall they have, 
 The kingdom ours abideth! 
 
 Luther. 1530. 
 
Cgra ©a*mamca* 175 
 
 TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 Truft in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not 
 unto thine own under (landing. — From the Lesson. 
 
 HOW bleft to all Thy followers, Lord, the 
 road 
 By which Tnou lead'ft them on, yet 
 oft how flrange ! 
 But Thou in all doft feek our higheft good, 
 For truth were true no longer, couldit. Thou 
 change. 
 Though crooked feem the paths, yet are they ftraight, 
 By which Thou draw'ft Thy children up to Thee, 
 And palling wonders by the way they fee, 
 And learn at laffc to own Thee wife and great. 
 
 No human laws can bind Thy Spirit, Lord, 
 
 That reafon or opinion frame for us; 
 The knot of doubt is fever'd by Thy fword, 
 
 Or falls unravell'd if Thou willeft thus. 
 The ftrongeft bonds are weak to Thee, O God, 
 
 All finks and fails that would Thy courfe oppofe; 
 
 Thy lighteft word can quell Thy ftouteft foes, 
 And defert paths are by Thy footfleps trod. 
 
x 7 6 Cjira ©erm antra. 
 
 What human prudence fondly ftrives to bind, 
 Thy wifdom funders far as eaft from well; 
 
 We long beneath the yoke of man have pined, 
 Thy hand exalteth high above the reft. 
 
 The world would fcatter, Thou doll union give; 
 She breaks, Thou buildeil ; what fhe builds is made 
 A ruin'd heap; her light is nought but fhade; 
 
 Her dead Thy Spirit calls to rife and live. 
 
 Is there an aft our reafon would applaud ? 
 
 Lo in Thy book hall Thou the example given; 
 But him whom none as wife and pious laud, 
 
 Thou often lead'll in fecret up to Heaven, 
 As Thou didft leave the Pharifee, to go 
 
 And eat with finners whom all elfe forfook. 
 
 Who can fearch out Thy purpofes, of look 
 Into th' abyfs of wifdom whence they flow ? 
 
 Our all, O God, is nothing in Thine eyes, 
 Our nothing Thou regardeft oft with love; 
 
 Glory and pomp of words Thou doll not prize, 
 Thy impulfe only gives them power to move. 
 
 Thy noblell works awaken not man's praife, 
 For they are hidden, and he blindly turns 
 Away, nor though he fee, their light difcerns, 
 
 Too grofs his fenfe, too keen their dazzling rays. 
 
 O Ruler! We would blefs Thee and adore, 
 At whofe command we live or turn to dull ; 
 
 When Thou doll give us of Thy wifdom's llore, 
 We fee how true Thy care, and learn to trull. 
 
£m*a Germanica, 
 
 177 
 
 Thy wifdom plays with us as with a child, 
 Who playing learns his Father loves him well; 
 'Tis love that brings Thee down with man to 
 dwell, 
 
 Love guides our faltering footfteps through the ^ ilcL 
 
 Now feems to us o'er harm and ftridt. Thy fchool, 
 Now doll Thou greet us mild and tenderly, 
 
 Now when our wilder paffions break Thy rule, 
 Thy judgments fright us back again to Thee. 
 
 With downcaft eyes we feek Thy face again, 
 Thou kiffeft us, we promife fair amends, 
 Once more Thy Spirit reft and pardon fends, 
 
 And curbs our paffions with a ftronger rein. 
 
 Thou know'ft, O Father, all our weaknefs well, 
 
 Our impotence, our foolifhnefs of mind ; 
 Almoft a paffing glance may ferve to tell 
 
 How weak are we, how ignorant, how blind. 
 Wherefore Thou comeft with Thy help and ftay, 
 
 A father's rule, a mother's love are Thine; 
 
 The lamb, on whom none cKe difcern Thy fign, 
 Thou carrieft in Thy bofom day by day. 
 
 The common ways are trodden not of Thee, 
 
 Seldom Thy fteps are traced by mortal eyes, 
 Yet art Thou near us, and unfeen, doft fee 
 
 All hopes and wifhes that within us rife, 
 The bright reflexion of Thy inner thought 
 
 Is day by day before our eyes outipread; 
 
 Who thinks he quickeft hath Thy meaning read, 
 Is oft another deeper leflbn taught. 
 
 9* 
 
l 7* jügra ©ermanica. 
 
 O Eye, whofe glance no falfehood can endure, 
 Grant me to wifely judge, and well difcern, 
 
 Nature from grace — Thy Light ferene and pure 
 From großer fires that in and round me burn« 
 
 Let no ftrange fire be kindled on the fhrine 
 Within my heart left I mould madly bring 
 The hated offering unto Thee, O King. 
 
 Ah, bleft the foul whofe light is born of Thine! 
 
 When reafon contradicts Thy law, or climbs 
 So high, fhe weeneth to know more than Thou, 
 
 Break down her confidence, great God, betimes, 
 And teach her lowly at Thy feet to bow. 
 
 Nor let my proud heart dictate, Lord, to Thee, 
 But tame the wayward will that feeks its own, 
 And wake the love that clings to Thee alone, 
 
 And takes Thy judgments in humility. 
 
 Abforb my will in Thine; fupport and bear 
 Onward in loving arms Thy timid child, 
 
 Thy Spirit's voice difpels all doubt, all fear, 
 And quells the paflions erft fo fierce and wild. 
 
 Thou art mine, All, fince that Thy Son is mine 
 Oh let Thy Spirit work with power in me, 
 With ftrong defire I thirft, I pant for Thee, 
 
 Oh joy whene'er Thy glories round me fhhine! 
 
 So mail the creature ever ferve me here, 
 Nor angels blufh to bear me company; 
 
 The perfect fplrits to Thy throne moft near, 
 They are my brethren, waiting there for me; 
 
iügra ^ertrrantca. 
 
 l 79 
 
 And oft my fplrit joys to meet a heart, 
 That loveth Thee and me and every faint. 
 Is aught then left can make me fad and faint? 
 
 Come, Fount of Joy! vain forrows, all depart! 
 
 Gottfried Arnold. 1666-1714-. 
 
i8 ° £ma Germanica. 
 
 TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 P^or our converfation is in heaven ; from whence alfo 
 we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jefus Chrift ; who 
 fliall change our vile body, that it may be fafhioned 
 like unto His glorious body, according to the working 
 whereby He is able even to fubdue all things unto 
 Himfelf. — From the Epistle. 
 
 LET who will in thee rejoice, 
 O thou fair and wondrous earth! 
 Ever anguinYd forrow's voice 
 Pierces through thy Teeming mirth; 
 Let thy vain delights be given 
 Unto them who love not Heaven, 
 My defire is nx'd on Thee, 
 Jefus, deareft far to me! 
 
 Weary fouls with toil outworn, 
 
 Drooping 'neath the long hot light, 
 
 Wifh that foon the coming morn 
 Might be quenched again in night, 
 
 That their toils might find a clofe 
 
 In a -foft and deep repofe ; 
 
 I but wifh to reft in Thee, 
 
 Jefus, deareft far to me ! 
 
 Others dare the treacherous wave 
 Hidden rock and fhifting wind,— » 
 
Storm and danger let them brave, 
 Earthly good or wealth to find; 
 Faith mail wing my upward flight 
 Far above yon ftarry height, 
 Till I End myfelf with Thee, 
 Jefus, deareft Friend to me! 
 
 Many a time ere now I faid, 
 
 Many a time again lhall fay, 
 Would to God that I were dead, 
 Would that in" my grave I lay ! 
 Reft were mine, and fweet my lot 
 Where the body hinder eth not, 
 And the foul can ever be, 
 Jefus, deareft Lord, with Thee ! 
 
 Come, O Death, thou twin of Sleep, 
 Lead me hence, I pray thee come, 
 
 Loofe my rudder, through the deep 
 Guide my vefTel fafely home. 
 
 Thy approach who will may fly, 
 
 'Twere a joy to me to die, 
 
 For death opes the gates to Thee, 
 
 Jefus, deareft Friend to me ! 
 
 Would that I to-day might leave 
 This my earthly prifon here, 
 
 And my crown of joy receive 
 
 Waiting me in yon bright fphere ! 
 
 In that home of joy, where dwell 
 
 Rolls of angels, would I tell 
 
 How the Godhead mines in Thee, 
 
 Jefus, deareft Lord to me! 
 
1 82 £gra (Hwmamca. 
 
 But not yet the gates of gold 
 
 I may fee nor enter in, 
 Nor the heavenly fields behold, 
 
 But mull fit and mourning fpin 
 Life's dark thread on earth below ; 
 Let my thoughts then hourly go 
 Whither I myfelf would be, 
 Jefus, deareft Lord, with Thee ! 
 
 J. Franck 1653, 
 
Cpra (Germanica, 
 
 183 
 
 TWENTY-FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 Jefus anfwered and faid unto her, Martha, Martha, 
 thou art careful and troubled about many things : but 
 one thing is needful, and Mary hath chofen that good 
 part which fhall not be taken away from her. — Luke 
 x. 41, 42. 
 
 ONE thing is needful ! Let me deem 
 Aright ofthat whereof He fpoke; 
 All elfe, how fweet foe'er it feem, 
 Is but in truth a heavy yoke, 
 'Neath which the toiling fpirit frets and pants, 
 Yet never finds the happinefs it wants: 
 This One can make amends whate'er I mifs, 
 Who hath it finds in all his joy through this! 
 
 My foul, wouldfl thou this one thing find ? 
 
 Seek not amid created things; 
 Leave what is earthly far behind, 
 
 O'er Nature heavenward ftretch thy wings, 
 Where God and man are One, in whom appear 
 All truth and fulnefs, thou haft found it here, — 
 The better part, the One thing needful He, 
 My One, my All, my Joy, who faveth me. 
 
 As Mary once devoutly fought 
 
 The Eternal truth, the better part, 
 
 And fat, enwrapt in holy thought, 
 At Jefu's feet with burning heart, 
 
l8 4 Cgra (Ewmamca. 
 
 For nought elfe caring, yearning for the word 
 That mould be fpoken by her^Friend, her Lord, 
 Lofing her All in Him, His word believing, 
 And through the One all things again receiving: 
 
 Even fo is all my heart's defire 
 
 Fix'd, deareft Lord, on Thee alone; 
 Oh make me true and draw me nigher, 
 And make Thyfelf, O Chrift, my own. 
 Though many turn afide to join the crowd, 
 To follow Thee in love my heart is vow'd, 
 Thy word is life and fpirit, whither go ? 
 What joy is there in Thee we cannot know? 
 
 All perfect wifdom lies in Thee 
 
 As in its primal hidden fource ; 
 Oh let my will fubmiffive be, 
 
 And hold henceforth its even courfe, 
 Controll'd by truth and meekilefs, for high Heaven 
 To lowly Umple hearts hath wifdom given; 
 Who knoweth Chrift aright, and in Him lives, 
 Hath won the higheft prize that wifdom gives. 
 
 Oh that my foul from fleep might wake, 
 
 And ever, Lord, Thine image bear ! 
 Thee for my portion I will take, 
 Thy holinefs Thou bidd'ft us mare, 
 Whate'er we need for God-like walk and life 
 Is given to us in Thee; oh end this ftrife, 
 And free me from the love of pafling things, 
 To know alone the life from Thee that fprings! 
 
Cgra (Bfermamca 
 
 181 
 
 What can I afk for more? Behold 
 
 Thy mercy is a very flood ; 
 I know that Thou haft pafs'd of old 
 Into the Holieft through Thy blood, 
 And there redeem'd for ever thofe who lay 
 Beneath the rule of Satan ; now are they 
 Made free by Thee, who erft were flaves and weak, 
 And childlike hearts the name of Father fpeak. 
 
 Deep joy and peace and holy calm 
 Fill my once reftlefs fpirit now; 
 O'er verdant paftures free from harm, 
 She follows Thee, her fhepherd Thou; 
 Whate'er rejoices or confoles us here, 
 Is not fo fweet as feeling Thou art near; 
 This One is needful, but all elfe is drofs, 
 Let me win Chrift, all other gain is lofs. 
 
 Schroder. 
 
 1697. 
 
186 Cjira ©armanua. 
 
 TWENTY-FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER 
 TRINITY. 
 
 Behold the days come, faith the Lord, that T will 
 raife unto David a righteous Branch, and a King mall 
 reign, and profper, and mall execute judgment and 
 juftice in the earth. — From the Passage for the 
 Epistle. 
 
 R 
 
 EDEEMER of the nations, come! 
 Ranfom of earth, here make Thy home ! 
 Bright Sun, oh dart Thy flame to earth, 
 For fo mail God in Chrift have birth! 
 
 Thou corned from Thy kingly throne, 
 O Son of God, the Virgin's Son ! 
 Thou Hero of a two-fold race, 
 Walkeft in might earth's darkefr. place. 
 
 Thou floopeft once to fufFer here, 
 And rifeft o'er the Harry fphere; 
 Hell's gates at Thy defcent were riven, 
 Thy afcent is to higheft Heaven. 
 
 One with the Father ! Prince of might ! 
 O'er nature's realm alTert Thy right, 
 Our fickly bodies pine to know 
 Thy heavenly flrength, Thy living glow. 
 
Cgm Germanica. 
 
 187 
 
 How bright Thy lowly manger beams! 
 Down earth's dark vale its glory ftreams, 
 The fplendour of Thy natal night 
 Shines through all Time in deathlefs light. 
 
 J Franck. 
 After St. Ambrofe. 
 
i88 £gva Gkrmanica. 
 
 ST. ANDREW'S DAY, 
 
 And Jefus faith unto them, Follow me, . . And they 
 ftraightway left their nets, and followed Him. — From 
 the Gospel. 
 
 FOLLOW me, in me ye live, 
 What ye afk I freely give, 
 Only heed ye left ye ftray, 
 Follow me the Living Way; 
 Follow me with all your hearts, 
 I will ward off forrow's darts, 
 Learn from Chrift your Lord to be 
 Rich in meek humility. 
 
 Yea, Lord, meet it is indeed 
 We mould all Thy bidding heed; 
 Who in fear of this world's blame, 
 Counts Thy lowly yoke a fhame, 
 To Thy name, Lord, hath no right, 
 Is no Chriftian in Thy light. 
 Ah too well I know that we, 
 Here on earth, mould follow Thee. 
 
 Where is ftrength, Lord, to fulfil, 
 Glad at heart, Thy works and will, 
 Following on where Thou haft trod? 
 All too weak am I, O God; 
 
Cora ©.rmanica. l8 9 
 
 If awhile Thy paths I keep, 
 Soon I pine for reft and fleep; 
 E'en to love Thee, Lord, aright, 
 PafTeth far my feeble might. 
 
 Yet I will not turn from Thee, 
 Yet my joy in Chrift mail be ; 
 Help me, make me ftrong and bold, 
 Firm and faft Thy grace to hold. 
 This world and her lufts I leave, 
 Only to my Lord I cleave; 
 All their promifes are lies, 
 But who follows Thee is wi/e. 
 
 Thou haft gone before us, Lord, 
 Not with anger, ftrife, or fword, 
 Not with kingly pomp and pride; 
 But with mercy at Thy fide. 
 Moved by wondrous love divine 
 For our life Thou gäveft Thine, 
 And Thy precious outpour'd blood, 
 Won for us the higheft good. 
 
 Let us follow in fuch fort, 
 Chrift-like every deed and thought, 
 That Thy love moft true and kind 
 Henceforth all our hearts may bind; 
 None may look behind him now, 
 Who to Chrift hath pledged his vow 
 Chrift doth lead, no longer ftand, 
 Follow me, is His command. 
 
'9° C^ra ökvmanica. 
 
 Draw me up, my God, from hence, 
 Raife me high o'er earth and fenfe, 
 That I lofe not Thee from fight, 
 Nor in life nor death, my Light! 
 In my foul's moil deep recefs 
 Let me cherilh holinefs, 
 Not for Ihow or human praife, 
 But for Thy fake, all my days. 
 
 Grant me, Lord, my heart's defire, 
 So my courfe to run nor tire, 
 That my pracüfed foul may prove 
 What Thy meeknefs, what Thy love. 
 Grant me here to trufl Thy grace, 
 There with joy to fee Thy face, 
 This in time my portion be, 
 That through all eternity! 
 
 Rjst. 1 644. 
 
Ctira ©armanica, 
 
 191 
 
 ST. THOMAS THE APOSTLE. 
 
 And Thomas anfvvered and faid unto Him, My Lord 
 and my God. Jefus faith unto him, Thomas, because 
 thou haft feen me thou hall believed ; blefled are they 
 that have not feen, and yet have believed. — From the 
 Gospel. 
 
 LONG in the fpirit-world my foul had 
 fought 
 Some friendly being, clofe to her akin; 
 Long had prepared a dwelling in her 
 thought 
 And heart for fuch an one; for fhe could win 
 Through Him alone her flrength, for Him fhe yearn'd, 
 Toward Him her fervent longing ever burn'd. 
 
 And rich the world in things invifible, 
 
 In heathen gods, and fpirits great and fmall, 
 
 And bright and dark; yet ever did fhe dwell 
 Alone, for One was wanting 'mid them all; 
 
 One having might and glory, rich in love, 
 
 God, who as man could fhame and weaknefs prove. 
 
 Then came the Word, and took on Him our flefh, 
 And dwelt with men, here in the world of fight, 
 
 And made an end of flrife, and link'd afrefh 
 Our finful earth unto the throne of light. 
 
 Into His ancient glory He is gone, 
 
 And yet He dwells with us till time be done. 
 
9 2 
 
 Cgra ®mnanica. 
 
 Thus, O my foul, hall thou received thy will; 
 
 The glory of the world of ghofts is dim 
 Before the One, who is, and was, and ftill 
 
 Shall ever be; all hearts are fix'd on Him, 
 And fpirit worlds, fmce He is there, become 
 Hallow 'd and fafe to thee, thy proper home. 
 
 Thou foareit. now through all their heights fublime, 
 
 And not as once doth empty back return, 
 But gazing on thy God, forgetteft time 
 
 Beneath His loving glance, whence thou wouldfl 
 learn 
 How thou ihouldlt love, and know His Word aright 
 Ah bleft the love and faith that afk not fight! 
 
 Albertini. i 82 i. 
 
£«ra (Germanica. x 93 
 
 PRESENTATION IN THE TEMPLE. 
 
 Lord, now letteft Thou Thy fervant depart in peace, 
 according to Thy word ; for mine eyes have feen Thy 
 falvation. — From the Gospel. 
 
 LIGHT of the Gentile world ! 
 Thy people's joy and love! 
 Drawn by Thy Spirit we are come 
 Thy pretence, Lord, to prove. 
 Within Thy temple walls 
 We wait with earneft mind, 
 As Simeon waited long of old 
 His Saviour God to find. 
 
 Thou wilt be found of us, 
 
 O Lord, in every place, 
 Where Thou haft promifed faithfully 
 
 We mould behold Thy face. 
 
 Thou yet doft fuffer us 
 
 Who oft are gather'd here, 
 To bear Thee in the arms of faith 
 
 As once that aged feer. 
 
 Be Thou our blifs, our light, 
 
 Shining 'mid pain and lofs, 
 
 Our Sun of ftrength in time of fear, 
 
 The glory round our rrofs ; 
 10 
 
»94 Cgra (Harmonica. 
 
 A glow in finking hearts, 
 A funbeam in diflrefs, 
 Phyfician, nurfe, in ficknefs' hours, 
 In death our happinefs! 
 
 Oh let us, Lord, prevail 
 
 With Simeon at the lafl ; 
 May we take up his dying fong 
 
 When life is waning fail! 
 
 "Let me depart in peace, 
 
 Since that mine aged eyes 
 Have feen the Saviour here on earth» 
 
 Have feen His glory rife." 
 
 Yes, with the eye of faith 
 My Jefus I behold ; 
 * No foe can rob me of my Lord, 
 
 Though fierce his threats and bold- 
 I dwell within Thy heart, 
 Thou doll in mine abide, 
 Not forrow, pain nor death itfelf, 
 Can tear me from Thy fide. 
 
 J. Franck. 1653 
 
Cgra ©armamca. 
 
 *95 
 
 ST. MATTHIAS* DAY. 
 
 Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy 
 hden, and I will give you reft. — From the Gospel. 
 
 YES, there remaineth yet a reft ! 
 Arife, fad heart, that darkly pines, 
 By heavy care and pain oppreft, 
 On whom no fun of gladnefs mines; 
 Look to the Lamb! in yon bright fields 
 Thou'lt know the joy His prefence yields; 
 Caft oil thy load and thither hafte; 
 
 Soon fhalt thou fight and bleed no more, 
 Soon, foon thy weary courfe be o'er, 
 And deep the reft thou then fhalt tafte. 
 
 The reft appointed thee of God, 
 
 The reft that nought fhall break or move, 
 That ere this earth by man was trod 
 Was fet apart for thee by Love. 
 Our Saviour gave His life to win 
 This reft for thee; oh enter-in ! 
 
 Plear how His voice founds far and wide, 
 Ye weary fouls, no more delay, 
 Loiter not faithlefs by the way, 
 Here in my peace and reft abide! 
 
 Ye heavy-laden, come to Him! 
 
 Ye who are bent with many a load, 
 Come from your prifons drear and dim, 
 
 Toil not thus fadly of your road! 
 
*9 6 £wa (Ewmamca. 
 
 Ye've borne the burden of the day, 
 And hear ye not your Saviour fay, 
 I am your refuge and your reft? 
 His children ye, of heavenly birth, 
 Howe'er may rage fin, hell, or earth, 
 Here are ye fafe, here calmly bleft. 
 
 Yonder in joy the fheaves we bring, 
 Whofe feed was fown on earth in tears; 
 
 There in our Father's houfe we fing 
 The fong too fweet for mortal ears. 
 Sorrow and fighing all are paft, 
 And pain and death are fled at laft, 
 
 There with the Lamb of God we dwell, 
 He leads us to the cryftal river, 
 He wipes away all tears for ever; 
 
 What there is ours no tongue can tell. 
 
 Hunger nor thirft can pain us there, 
 The time of recompenfe is come, 
 
 Nor cold nor fcorching heat we bear, 
 Safe fhelter'd in our Saviour's home. 
 The Lamb is in the midft; and thofe 
 Who follow'd Him through fhame and woes, 
 
 Are crown'd with honour, joy and peace. 
 The dry bones gather life again, 
 One Sabbath over all fhall reign, 
 
 Wherein all toil and labour ceafe. 
 
 There is untroubled calm and light, 
 No gnawing care fhall mar our reft; 
 
 Ye weary, heed this word aright, 
 
 Come, lean upon your Saviour's breaft. 
 
Fain would I linger here no more, 
 Fain to yon happier world upfoar, 
 And join that bright expedlant band. 
 Oh raife, my foul, the joyful fong 
 That rings through yon triumphant throng; 
 Thy perfeft reft is nigh at hand. 
 
 KUNTH. 1733. 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
*9 8 Cgra ©armantca. 
 
 THE ANNUNCIATION. 
 
 Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me 
 according to Thy word. — From the Gospel. 
 
 YEA, my fpirit fain would fmk 
 In Thy heart and hands, my God, 
 Waiting till Thou mow the end 
 Of the wiys that Thou haft trod ; 
 Stripp'd of felf, how calm her reft 
 On her loving Father's breaft! 
 
 And my foul repineth not, 
 
 Well content whate'er befall; 
 Murmurs, wifhes, of felf-will, 
 
 They are flain and vanquifh'd all, 
 Reftlefs thoughts, that fret and crave, 
 Slumber in her Saviour's grave. 
 
 And mv foul is free from care, 
 
 For her thoughts from all things ceafe 
 
 That can pierce like iharpeft thorns, 
 Wounding fore the inner peace. 
 
 He who made her careth well, 
 
 She but feeks in peace to dwell. 
 
 And my foul defpaireth not, 
 
 Loving God amid her woe ; 
 Grief that wrings and breaks the heart 
 
 Only they who hate Him know: 
 
Cgra ©crmamca. 
 
 99 
 
 They who love Him ftill poflefs 
 Comfort in their worft diftrefs. 
 
 And my foul compkineth not, 
 For lhe knows not pain or fear, 
 
 Clinging to her God in faith, 
 
 Trufting though He flay her here 
 
 'Tis when flelh and blood repine, 
 
 Sun of joy, Thou canft not fhine. 
 
 Thus my foul before her God* 
 Lieth ftill, nor fpeaketh more, 
 
 Conqueror thus o'er pain and wrong, 
 That once fmote her to the core; 
 
 Like a iilent ocean, bright 
 
 With her God's great praife and light. 
 
 Winkler. 
 
 1713. 
 
£°° Cgra ökrmanka, 
 
 ST. BARNABAS' DAY. 
 
 We preach unto you that ye mould turn from thefe 
 vanities unto the living God which made heaven, and 
 earth, and the fea, and all things that are therein : who 
 in time paft fuffered all nations to walk in their own 
 ways. Neverthelefs He left not Himfelf without wit- 
 nefs, in that He did good, and gave us rain from 
 heaven, and fruitful feafons, filling our hearts with 
 food and gladnefs. — From the Lesson. 
 
 SHALL I not fing praife to Thee, 
 Shall I not give thanks, O Lord? 
 Since in every thing I fee 
 How Thy love keeps watch and ward 
 O'er us, how the trueft love 
 Ever fills Thy heart, my God, 
 Bearing, cheering, on their road, 
 All who in Thy fervice move. 
 All things elfe have but their day, 
 God's love only kits for aye. 
 
 As the eagle o'er her neft 
 
 Spreads her flickering wings abroad, 
 
 So from all that would moleft, 
 
 Doth Thine arm defend me, Lord; 
 
 From my youth up e'en till now, 
 Of the being Thou didft give, 
 
£ma ©mncmkct, 
 
 201 
 
 And the life that flill I live, 
 Faithful Guardian ftill wert Thou, 
 All things elfe have but their day, 
 God's love only lafts for aye. 
 
 Nay He kept not back His Son, 
 
 But hath given Him for our good, 
 And our fafety He hath won 
 
 By the fhedding of -His blood. 
 O Thou fathomleß abyfs! 
 
 My weak powers but ftrive in vain, 
 Knowledge of Thy depths to gain, 
 Man knows not fuch love as this. 
 All things elfe have but their day, 
 God's love only lafts for aye. 
 
 And His Spirit, bleffed Guide, 
 In His holy Word doth teach, 
 
 How on earth we may abide, 
 So that heaven at lall we reach; 
 
 Every longing heart doth fill 
 
 With the pure true light of faith, 
 That can break the bonds of death, 
 
 And control the powers of ill. 
 All things elfe have but their day, 
 God's love only lafts for aye. 
 
 Truly hath he cared indeed 
 
 For my foul's health, and no lefe 
 
 If my body fuffer need, 
 
 Will He help in my diftrefs. 
 
 When my ftrength and courage fail, 
 
 When my powers can do no more, 
 10* 
 
 J 
 
202 jT^rct (germanica. 
 
 Doth my God fach ftrength outpoui 
 That I rife up and prevail. 
 All things elfe have but their day, 
 God's love only kits for aye. 
 
 All the holts of heaven and earth, 
 Hath He placed at my command, 
 
 Nowhere is there lack or dearth, 
 But I find in fea and land 
 
 All things order'd for my wants, 
 Living things in fields and woods. 
 On the heights or in the floods, 
 
 And the earth brings forth her plants. 
 All things elfe have but their day, 
 God's love only lafts for aye. 
 
 When I fleep my Guardian wakes, 
 And revives my wearied mind; 
 Every morning on me breaks 
 
 With fome mark of love molt kind 
 Had my God not ftood my Friend, 
 Had His countenance not been 
 Here my guide, I had not leen 
 Many a trial reach its end. 
 All things elfe have but their day, 
 God's love only lafts for aye. 
 
 Often hath my crafty Foe 
 
 Threaten'd to bring down on me 
 
 Many a fore and heavy woe, 
 
 From which yet my life is free ; 
 
 For the angel whom God fends, 
 Wards off every threaten'd hurt, 
 
Cpra <8>ermanfca. 
 
 203 
 
 Every evil doth avert 
 That mine Enemy intends. 
 All things elfe have but their day, 
 God's love only kits for aye. 
 
 As a father ne'er withdraws 
 From a child His all of love, 
 
 Though it often break his laws, 
 Though it carelefs, wilful, prove: 
 
 Even fo my loving Lord 
 
 Doth my faults with pity iee, 
 With His rod He chafteneth me, 
 
 Not avenging with His fword. 
 All things elfe have but their day, 
 God's love only hits for aye. 
 
 When His ftrokes upon me light, 
 
 Bitterly I feel their fmart, 
 Yet are they, if feen aright, 
 
 Tokens that my Father's heart 
 Yearns to bring me back again 
 
 Through thefe crofTes to His fold, 
 
 From the world that fain would hold 
 Soul and body in its chain. 
 All things elfe have but their day, 
 God's love only lafts for aye. 
 
 All my life I Hill have found, 
 And I will forget it never, 
 
 Every forrow hath its bound, 
 And no crofs endures for ever. 
 
 After all the winter's fnows 
 
 Comes fweet fummer back again, 
 
 
*°4 £yvct vJkriiictutca, 
 
 Patient fouls ne'er wait in vain, 
 Joy is given for all their woes. 
 All things elfe have but their day, 
 God's love only lafts for aye. 
 
 Since then neither change nor end, 
 In Thy love can e'er have place, 
 Father! I befeech Thee fend 
 
 Unto me Thy loving grace. 
 Help Thy feeble child, and give 
 
 Strength to ferve Thee day and night, 
 Loving Thee with all my might, 
 While on earth I yet mull live; 
 So fhall I when Time is o'er, 
 Praife and love Thee evermore. 
 
 Paul Gerhardt. 1659, 
 
jügra (Sformanica. 
 
 205 
 
 ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 
 
 Are they not all miniftering fpirits, fent forth to 
 minifter for them that fhall be heirs of falvation ?— 
 Heb. i. 14. 
 
 PRAISE and thanks to Thee be fung, 
 Mighty God, in fweeteft tone! 
 Lo! from every land and tongue, 
 Nations gather round Thy throne, 
 Praifing Thee, that Thou doll fend, 
 Daily from Thy Heaven above, 
 Angel-meflengers of love, 
 Who Thy threaten'd Church defend. 
 Who can ofFer worthily, 
 Lord of angels, praife to Thee ! 
 
 'Tis your office, Spirits bright, 
 
 Still to guard us night and day, 
 And before your heavenly might, 
 
 Powers of darknefs flee away ; 
 Ever doth your unfeen hoft, 
 
 Camp around us, and avert 
 
 All that feek to do us hurt, 
 Curbing Satan's malice moft. 
 Lord, who then can worthily, 
 For fuch goodnefs honour Thee! 
 
 x4nd ye come on ready wing, 
 
 When we drift toward fheer defpair, 
 
 Seeing nought where we might cling, 
 Suddenly, lo, ye are there! 
 
2°6 fgra (Sfarmamca. 
 
 And the wearied heart grows ftrong, 
 As an angel flrengthen'd Him, 
 Fainting in the garden dim, 
 'Neath the world's vaft woe and wrong. 
 Lord, who then can worthily, 
 For fuch mercy honour Thee! 
 
 Right and feemly were it then 
 We fhould glory that our God 
 
 Hath fuch honour put on men, 
 That He Tends o'er earth abroad 
 
 Princes of the realm above, 
 
 Champions, who by day and night, 
 Shield us with His holy might; 
 
 Come, behold how great His love ! 
 
 Lord, who then can worthily, 
 
 For fuch favour honour Thee! 
 
 Praife and thanks to Thee be fung, 
 Mighty God, in fweeteft tone. 
 
 Lo ! from every land and tongue, 
 Nations gather round Thy throne, 
 
 Praifing Thee, that Thou doft fend, 
 Hourly from Thy glorious fphere, 
 Angels down to help us here, 
 
 And Thy threaten'd Church defend. 
 
 Let us henceforth worthily, 
 
 Lord of angels, honour Thee. 
 
 Rist. 1655. 
 
tyxa (Stermcmtca, 
 
 ALL SAINTS' DAY. 
 
 207 
 
 Lo. a great multitude which no man could number, 
 of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, 
 flood before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed 
 with white robes, and palms in their hands ; and cried 
 vi ith a loud voice, faying, Salvation to our God which 
 fitteth upon the throne and unto the Lamb. — From 
 the Epistle. 
 
 W 
 
 HO are thofe before God's throne, 
 What the crowned hoft I fee? 
 As the Iky with flars thick-ftrown 
 Is their fhining company: 
 Hallelujahs, hark, they fing, 
 Solemn praife to God they bring. 
 
 Who are thofe that in their hands 
 Bear aloft the conqueror's palm, 
 
 As one o'er his foeman Hands, 
 Fallen beneath his mighty arm? 
 
 What the war and what the ftrife, 
 
 Whence came fuch victorious life? 
 
 Who are thofe array'd in light, 
 Cloth'd in righteoufnefs divine, 
 
 Wearing robes moft pure and white, 
 That unftain'd mail ever Ihine, 
 
 That can nevermore decay; 
 
 Whence came all this bright array? 
 
2o8 Cjira Cßwmamca, 
 
 They are thofe who, ftrong in faith, 
 Battled for the mighty God; 
 
 Conquerors o'er the world and death, 
 Following not Sin's crowded road; 
 
 Through the Lamb who once was flain, 
 
 Did they fuch high viclory gain. 
 
 They are thofe who much have borne, 
 Trial, forrow, pain, and care, 
 
 Who have wreftled night and morn 
 With the mighty God in prayer; 
 
 Now their ftrife hath found its clofe, 
 
 God hath turn'd away their woes. 
 
 They are branches of that Stem, 
 Who hath our Salvation been, 
 
 In the blood He fhed for them, 
 
 Have they made their raiment clean; 
 
 Hence they wear fuch radiant dreft, 
 
 Clad in fpotlefs holinefs. 
 
 They are thofe who hourly here 
 Served as priefls before their Lord, 
 
 Offering up with gladfome cheer 
 Soul and body at His word. 
 
 Now within the Holy Place, 
 
 They behold Him face to face. 
 
 As the harts at noonday pant 
 For the river frefh and clear, 
 
 Did their fouls oft long and faint, 
 For the Living Fountain here. 
 
Cgra (Bwmanfca. 
 
 205 
 
 Now their thirft is quench'd, thej; dwell 
 With the Lord they loved fo well. 
 
 Thitherwards I ftretch my hands, 
 
 O Lord Jefus; day by day, 
 In Thy houfe in thefe ftrange lands, 
 
 Compafs'd round with foes, I pray, 
 Let me fink not in the war, 
 Drive for me my foes afar. 
 
 Call my lot in earth and heaven 
 
 With Thy faints made like to Thee, 
 
 Let my bonds be alfo riven, 
 
 Make Thy child who loves Thee free ; 
 
 Near the throne where Thou dolt Ihine, 
 
 May a place at lall be mine« 
 
 Ah! that blifs can ne'er be told, 
 When with all that army bright, 
 
 Thee, my Sun, I fliall behold, 
 Shining liar-like with Thy light. 
 
 Amen! Thanks be brought to Thee, 
 
 Praife through all eternity. 
 
 Schenk. Died 1727« 
 
MORNING HYMNS. 
 
Cgva (Germanica. 
 
 2H 
 
 MORNING HYMNS. 
 
 1. 
 
 GOD who madeft earth and heaven, 
 Father, Son, and Holy Ghoft, 
 Who the day and night haft given, 
 Sun and moon and {tarry holt, 
 Thou whofe mighty hand maintains 
 Earth and all that fhe contains; 
 
 God, I thank Thee from my heart, 
 That through all the livelong night, 
 
 Thou haft kept me fafe apart 
 From all danger, pain, affright, 
 
 And the cunning of my foe, 
 
 Hath not wrought my overthrow. 
 
 Let the night of fin depart, 
 As this earthly night hath fled ; 
 
 Jefus, take me to Thy heart, 
 
 In the blood that Thou haft fhed 
 
 Is my help and hope alone, 
 
 For the evil I have done. 
 
 Help me as each morn fhall break, 
 
 In the fpirit to arife, 
 Let my foul from fin awake, 
 
 That when o'er the aged fkies, 
 Thy great Judgment Day appear, 
 I may fee it free from fear. 
 
*H Cnra ökrmanka. 
 
 Ever lead me, ever guide 
 
 All my wanderings by Thy Word ; 
 As Thou haft been, ftill abide 
 
 My defence, my refuge, Lord. 
 Never fafe except with Thee, 
 Ever Thou my Guardian be! 
 
 Mighty God, I now commend 
 
 Soul and body unto Thee, 
 All the powers that Thou doft lend, 
 
 By Thy hand directed be; 
 Thou my boaft, my ftrength divine, 
 Keep me with Thee, I am Thine. 
 
 Let Thine angel guard my foul 
 From the Evil One's dark power, 
 
 All his thoufand wiles control, 
 Warning, guiding me each hour, 
 
 Till my final reft be come, 
 
 And Thine angel bear me home. 
 
 Heinrich Albert. 1644. 
 
 II. 
 
 The golden funbeams with their joyous gleams, 
 Are kindling o'er earth, her life and mirth, 
 
 Shedding forth lovely and heart-cheering light; 
 Through the dark hours' chill I lay filent and ftill, 
 But rifen at length to gladnefs and ftrength, 
 
 I gaze on the heavens all glowing and bright. 
 
£ma (germanica. 
 
 2I 5 
 
 Mine eyes now behold Thy works, that of old 
 And ever are telling to all men here dwelling, 
 
 How great is Thy glory, how wondrous Thy power; 
 They tell of the home where the faithful fhall come, 
 Who depart to that peace that can change not or 
 ceafe, 
 
 From earth where all paffeth as paffes the hour. 
 
 Come let us raife our voices, and praife 
 The Maker of all, at His feet let us fall, 
 
 Offering to Him again all He hath given; 
 
 The bell that is ours, our hearts and our powers, 
 Glad fongs that we fing Him, thanks that we 
 bring Him — 
 
 Thele are the incenfe mofl grateful to Heaven. 
 
 Evening and morning thus ever He cares for us, 
 
 Bleffing, renewing, warding off ruin, 
 Thefe are His works, thus His goodnefs we prove ; 
 
 When we are fleeping, watch He is keeping, 
 
 When we arife, He gladdens our eyes 
 With the funfhine of mercy, the glow of His love. 
 
 All paffeth away, but God liveth aye, 
 
 And changeth in nought ; eternal His Thought, 
 
 His Word and His Will are fteadfaft and fure ; 
 Never His grace nor His mercy decays, 
 It heals the fad heart from its deadlier!: finart, 
 
 Giving it life that fhall ever endure. 
 
 God, Thou my crown! forgiving look down, 
 And hide from Thy face through Thy pitying 
 grace, 
 
216 Cgrct (Sformcmtca. 
 
 All my tranfgreflions againfl Thy command ; 
 
 Henceforth oh rule me, guide me and fchool me, 
 As Thou feeft fit; my ways I commit 
 
 All to Thy pleafure, Thy merciful hand. 
 
 Croffes and forrow may end with the morrow, 
 
 Stormieft feas fhall fink into peace, 
 The wild winds are hufh'd, and the funfhine returns , 
 
 So fulnefs of reft, and the calm of the bleft, 
 
 Are waiting me there, in that garden moll fair, 
 That home for which daily my fpirit here yearns. 
 
 Paul Gerhardt. 
 
 111. 
 
 Come, my foul, awake, 'tis morning, 
 
 Day is dawning 
 O'er the earth, arife and pray ; 
 Come, to Him who made this fplendour, 
 
 Thou muft render 
 All thy feeble powers can pay. 
 
 From the ftars now learn thy duty, 
 
 See their beauty 
 Paling in the golden air; 
 So God's light Thy mills mould banifti, 
 
 Thus mould vanifh 
 What to darken'd fenfe feem'd fair. 
 
£gra dformcmica. 
 
 217 
 
 See how everything that liveth, 
 
 Gladly ftriveth 
 On the pleafant light to gaze; 
 Stirs with joy each thing that groweth. 
 
 As it knoweth 
 Darknefs fmitten by its rays. 
 
 Soul, thy incenfe alfo proffer ; 
 
 Thou fliouldft offer 
 Praife to Him, who from thy head 
 Kept afar the ftorms of forrow, 
 
 That the morrow 
 Finds the night in peace hath fled. 
 
 Bid Him blefs what thou art doing, 
 
 If purfuing 
 Some good aim ; but if there lurks 
 111 intent in thine endeavour, 
 
 May He ever 
 Thwart and turn thee from thy works. 
 
 Think that He, the All-difcerning, 
 
 Knows each turning 
 Of thy path, each finful ftain ; 
 Nay what ihame would fain glofs over, 
 
 Can difcover; 
 All thou doll to Him is plain. 
 
 Bound unto the flying hours 
 
 Are our powers; 
 Earth's vain good floats down their wave, 
 That thy fhip, my foul, is hailing, 
 
 Never refting, 
 
 To its haven in the grave. 
 11 
 
2*8 Cura ©rrmanka. 
 
 Pray that when thy life is doling, 
 
 Calm repofing, 
 Thou mayft die, and not in pain; 
 That the night of death departed, 
 
 Thou glad-hearted, . 
 Mayft behold the Sun again. 
 
 From God's glances fhrink thou never, 
 
 Meet them ever; 
 Who fubmits him to His grace, 
 Finds that earth no mnfhine knoweth 
 
 Such as gloweth 
 O'er his pathway all his days. 
 
 Wakeneft thou again to forrow, 
 
 Oh! then borrow 
 Strength from Him, whofe fun-like might 
 On the mountain-fummit tarries, 
 
 And yet carries 
 To the vales their mirth and light. 
 
 Round the gifts He on thee fhowers, 
 
 Fiery towers 
 Will He fet, be not afraid, 
 Thou malt dwell 'mid angel legions, 
 
 In the regions 
 Satan's felf dares not invade. 
 
 Von Canitz. 1654- 1699, 
 
jüjira (Germanica. 219 
 
 IV. 
 
 Davspring of Eternity ! 
 
 Dawn on us this morning-tide. 
 Light from Light's exhauftlefs fea, 
 
 Now no more Thy radiance hide ; 
 But difpel with glorious might 
 All our night. 
 
 Let the morning dew of love 
 On our fleeping confeience rain; 
 
 Gentle comfort from above 
 
 Flow through life's long parched plain; 
 
 Water daily us Thy flock 
 
 From the rock. 
 
 Let the glow of love deftroy 
 Cold obedience faintly given; 
 
 Wake our hearts to ftrength and joy 
 With the Aufhing eaftern heaven, 
 
 Let us truly rife ere yet 
 
 Life hath ftt. 
 
 Brighteft Star of eaftern ikies, 
 
 Let that final morn appear, 
 When our bodies too fhall rife 
 
 Free from all that pain'd them here, 
 Strong their joyful courfe to run 
 As the fun. 
 
220 
 
 Cgra ©armanka. 
 
 To yon world be Thou our light, 
 
 O Thou glorious Sun of grace; 
 
 Lead us through the tearful night, 
 
 To yon fair and blefTed place, 
 Where to joy that never dies 
 We fhall rife. 
 Von Rosenroth. 1684. 
 
 V. 
 
 Once more from reft I rife again, 
 To greet a day of toil and pain, 
 
 My Heaven-appointed lot; 
 Unknowing what new grief may be 
 With this new day in ftore for me, 
 
 But it fhall harm me not 
 I know full well; my loving God 
 Will fuffer not a hurtful load. 
 
 My burden every day is new, 
 But every day my God is true, 
 
 And all my cares hath borne; 
 Ere eventide can no man know 
 What Day hath brought of joy or woe, 
 
 And though it feem each morn 
 To fome new path of fufFering call, 
 With God I can furmount it all 
 
 Since this I know, oh wherefore fink, 
 My faithlefs heart? And why doft fhrink 
 
Cgra ©mnamca. 22 * 
 
 To take thy load again? 
 Bear what thou canfl, God bears thy lot, 
 The Lord of All, He flumbleth not; 
 
 Pure blefling fhall thou gain, 
 If thou with Him right onward go, 
 Nor fear to tread the path of woe. 
 
 My heart grows ftrong, all fear mull fly 
 Whene'er I feel Thy love, Moft High, 
 
 Doth compafs me around; 
 But would I have Thee for my fhield, 
 No more to fin my foul mull yield, 
 
 But in Thy ways be found; 
 Thou God wilt never walk with me, 
 If I would turn afide from Thee. 
 
 Dear God, let me Thy guidance find, 
 I follow with a contrite mind, 
 
 Oh make me true and pure; 
 As a good foldier I will fight 
 This world of fin, and in Thy might 
 
 My victory is fure; 
 Then bravely I can meet each day, 
 And fear it not, come what come may. 
 
 My God and Lord, I call on Thee 
 The load that weighs too fore on me, 
 
 The yoke 'neath which I bow; 
 I lay my rank, my high command, 
 In my Almighty Father's hand, 
 
 Well knowing, Lord, that Thou 
 Wilt ne'er withdraw it, for Thy truth 
 Hath ever guided me from vouth. 
 
2z2 
 
 jügrct (Swmcmica 
 
 To Thee my kindred I commend, 
 For they are fafe if Thou defend, 
 
 Oh guard them round about; 
 My finful foul would fhelter take 
 In Jefu's bofom, for whofe fake 
 
 Thou wilt not call her out; 
 When foul and body part at lall, 
 Then all myfelf on Thee I call. 
 
 Anton Ulrich, 
 Duke of Brunfwick. 1667. 
 
EVENING HYMNS. 
 
Cgra (ti&txmamta. 22 S 
 
 T 
 
 EVENING HYMNS. 
 
 HE happy funfhine all is gone, 
 The gloomy night comes fwiftly on; 
 But mine Thou ftill, O Chrift our Light, 
 Nor let us lofe ourfelves in night. 
 
 We thank Thee, Father, that this day 
 Thy angels watch'd around our way, 
 Warding off harm and vexing fear ; 
 Through them Thy goodnefs guards us here. 
 
 Lord, have we anger'd Thee to-day, 
 Remember not our fins, we pray, 
 But let Thy mercy o'er them fweep, 
 And give us calm and reftful fleep. 
 
 Thy angels guard our fleeping hours, 
 And keep afar all evil Powers ; 
 And Thou all pain and mifchief ward 
 From foul and body, faithful Lord! 
 
 N. Hermann. 1560. 
 
 11* 
 
226 £g ra ©ormanua. 
 
 n. 
 
 Now reft the woods again, 
 Man, cattle, town and plain, 
 
 The world all fleeping lies. 
 But fleep not yet, my foul, 
 For He who made this Whole, 
 
 Loves that thy prayers to Him arife. 
 
 O Sun, where is Thy glow ? 
 Thou'rt fled before thy foe, 
 
 Thou yieldeft to the night. 
 Farewell, a better Sun, 
 My Jefus, hath begun 
 
 To fill my heart with joy and light. 
 
 The long bright day is paft, 
 The golden ftars at laft 
 
 Beilud the dark-blue heaven; 
 And like a ftar fhall I 
 For ever fhine on high, 
 
 When my releafe from earth is given. 
 
 My body haftes to reft, 
 My weary limbs undreft, 
 
 I put away thefe figns 
 Of our mortality ; 
 Once Chrift fhall give fo me 
 
 That fpotlefs robe that ever ihines. 
 
Cgra Germanica. **? 
 
 My head and hands and feet 
 Their reft with gladnefs greet, 
 
 And know their work is o'er; 
 My heart, thou too fhalt be 
 From fmful works fet free, 
 
 Nor pine in weary forrow more. 
 
 Ye limbs with toil opprefs'd, 
 Go now and take your reft, 
 
 For quiet fleep ye crave. 
 Ere many a day is fled, 
 Ye'll find a narrower bed 
 
 And longer flumber in the grave. 
 
 My heavy eyes muft clofe, 
 SeaPd up in deep repofe, 
 
 Where is my fafety then? 
 Do Thou Thy mercy fend, 
 My helplefs hours defend, 
 
 Thou fleeplefs Eye, that watcheft over men. 
 
 Jefus, my joy, now fpread 
 Thy wings above my head, 
 
 To fliield Thy little one. 
 Would Satan work me wrong, 
 Oh! be Thy angels' fong, 
 
 " To him no evil fhall be done." 
 
 My loved ones all, good night! 
 No grief or danger light 
 
 On your defencelefs heads. 
 God fend you happy fleep, 
 And let His angels keep 
 
 Watch golden-arm'd around your beds! 
 
 Paul Gerhardt. 1653, 
 
228 Caret (Ewmamca. 
 
 in. 
 
 The day expires; 
 My foul deiires 
 And pants to fee that day, 
 When whate'er hath vex'd her hv I 
 Shall be done away. 
 
 The night is here, 
 Oh ! be Thou near; 
 Chrift, make it light within; 
 Drive away from out my heart 
 All the night of fin. 
 
 The funbeams pale, 
 
 And flee and fail; 
 O uncreated Sun ! 
 Let Thy light now fhine on> us, 
 Then our joy were won. 
 
 All things that move 
 Below, above, 
 Now with fleep are bleft; 
 Work Thou ftill in me while I 
 Calmly in Thee reft. 
 
 When fhall the fway 
 Of night and day, 
 Ceafe to rule man thus? 
 When that brighteft day of days 
 Once fhall dawn on us. 
 
Cjira ©armamca. 22 9 
 
 Ah! never then 
 Her light again 
 Jerufalem fhall mifs, 
 For the Lamb fhall be her Light, 
 Filling her with blifs. 
 
 Oh were I there ! 
 Where all the air 
 With lovely founds is ringing; 
 Where the faints Thee, HoJy Lord, 
 Evermore are finging! 
 
 Lord Jefus, Thou 
 My reft art now, 
 Oh help me that I come, 
 Radiant with Thy light to fhine 
 In Thy glorious home ! 
 
 Freylinghausen, i 7 04« 
 
 IV. 
 
 The moon hath rifen on high, 
 And in the clear dark iky 
 
 The golden ftars all brightly glow; 
 
 And black and hufh'd the woods, 
 While o'er the fields and floods 
 
 The white mifts hover to and fro. 
 
 How ftill the earth! how calm! 
 What dear and home-like charm 
 
2 3° Cgra ©evmanica. 
 
 From filent twilight doth fhe borrow ! 
 Like to fome quiet room, 
 Where wrapt in Hill foft gloom, 
 
 We fleep away the daylight's forrow. 
 
 Look up; the moon to-night 
 Shows us but half her light, 
 
 And yet we know her round and fair. 
 At other things how oft 
 We in our blindnefs fcoff'd, 
 
 Becaufe we faw not what was there. 
 
 We haughty fons of men 
 
 Have but a narrow ken, 
 We are but finners poor and weak. 
 
 Yet airy dreams we build, 
 
 And deem us wife and fkill'd, 
 And come not nearer what we feek. 
 
 Thy mercy let us fee, 
 
 Nor find in vanity 
 Our joy; nor trull in what departs; 
 
 But true and fimple grow, 
 
 And live to Thee below 
 With funny pure and childlike hearts. 
 
 Let death all gently come 
 
 At lall to take us home, 
 And let us meet him fearlefsly; 
 
 And when thefe bonds are riven, 
 
 Oh take us to Thy heaven, 
 Our Lord and God, to dwell with Thee. 
 
JErira Germanica. 2 3 
 
 We fink to flumber now 
 
 Lord, in Thy name ; do Thou 
 Forgive our fins, and o'er our heads 
 
 Keep watch the livelong night, 
 
 And let foft fleep alight 
 On us, and on all fick and painful beds, 
 
 Claudius. 1782. 
 
FOE THE SICK AND DYING. 
 
£gm ©ormamca. 23 s 
 
 FOR THE SICK AND DYING. 
 
 I. 
 
 IN the midft of life, behold 
 Death has girt us round. 
 Whom for help then fhall we pray, 
 Where fhall grace be found? 
 In Thee, O Lord, alone! 
 
 We rue the evil we have done, 
 That Thy wrath on us hath drawn. 
 Holy Lord and God! 
 Strong and Holy God! 
 Merciful and Holy Saviour! 
 
 Eternal God! 
 Sink us not beneath 
 Bitter pains of endleis death, 
 Kyrie eleifon. 
 
 In the midft of death the jaws 
 
 Of hell againft us gape. 
 Who from peril dire as this 
 
 Openeth us efcape? 
 •Tis Thou, O Lord, alone! 
 
 Our bitter fuffering and our fin 
 Pity from Thy mercy win, 
 
 Holy Lord and God! 
 
 Strong and holy God! 
 Merciful and holy Saviour! 
 
23 6 £gva (Bwmamca. 
 
 Eternal God! 
 Let us not defpair 
 For the fire that burneth there, 
 
 Kyrie eleifon ! 
 
 In the midft of hell our fins 
 
 Drive us to defpair; 
 Whither fhall we flee from them? 
 
 Where is refuge, where? 
 In Thee, Lord Chrift, alone! 
 
 For Thou haft fhed Thy precious blood, 
 All our fins Thou makeft good, 
 
 Holy Lord and God! 
 
 Strong and holy God ! 
 Merciful and holy Saviour! 
 
 Eternal God! 
 Let us never fall 
 From the true faith's hope for all, 
 
 Kyrie eleifon! 
 
 Notker tr. by Luther. 
 Written about 900, tr. 1524. 
 
 IL 
 
 God! whom I as love have known, 
 Thou haft ficknefs laid on me, 
 And thefe pains are fent of Thee, 
 
 Under which I burn and moan ; 
 
 Let them burn away the fin, 
 
 That too oft hath check'd the love 
 
Cgra Germanica. 2 37 
 
 Wherewith Thou my heart wouldft move, 
 When Thy Spirit works within ! 
 
 In my weaknefs be Thou Strong, 
 
 Be Thou fweet when I am fad, 
 
 Let me ftill in Thee be glad, 
 Though my pains be keen and long. 
 All that plagues my body now, 
 
 All that wafteth me away, 
 
 Preiling on me night and day, 
 Love hath fent, for Love art Thou ! 
 
 Suffering is the work now fent, 
 
 Nothing can I do but lie 
 
 Suffering as the hours go by ; 
 All my powers to this are bent. 
 Suffering is my gain; I bow 
 
 To my heavenly Father's will, 
 
 And receive it hufh'd and ftill; 
 Suffering is my worfhip now. 
 
 God! I take it from Thy hand 
 
 As a fign of love, I know 
 
 Thou wouldft perfect me through woe, 
 Till I pure before Thee ftand. 
 All refreshment, all the food 
 
 Given me for the body's need, 
 
 Comes from Thee, who lov'ft indeed, 
 Comes from Thee, for Thou art good. 
 
 Let my foul beneath her load 
 
 Faint not through the o'er wearied flefh, 
 
2 3 8 Cgra Germanica. 
 
 Let her hourly drink afrefh 
 Love and peace from Thee, my God, 
 Let the body's pain and finart 
 Hinder not her flight to Thee, 
 Nor the calm Thou giveft me; 
 Keep Thou up the finking heart. 
 
 Grant me never to complain, 
 Make me to Thy will refign'd, 
 With a quiet, humble mind, 
 
 Cheerful on my bed of pain. 
 
 In the flefh who fuffers thus, 
 Shall be 'purified from fin, 
 And the foul renew'd within ; 
 
 Therefore pain is laid on us. 
 
 I commend to Thee my life, 
 
 And my body to the crofs; 
 
 Never let me think it lofs 
 That I thus am freed from ftrife— 
 Wholly Thine; my faith is fure 
 
 Whether life or death be mine, 
 
 I am fafe if I am Thine; 
 For 'tis Love that makes me pure. 
 
 Richter. 1713. 
 
jügra Germanica. 239 
 
 in. 
 
 When the kft agony draws nigh, 
 
 My fpirit finks in bitter fear: 
 Courage ! I conquer though I die, 
 
 For Chrift with Death once wreftled here. 
 Thy ftrife, O Chrift, with Death's dark power 
 Upholds me in this fearful hour. 
 
 In faith I hide myfelf in Thee, 
 
 I mail not perifh in the ftrife ; 
 I fhare Thy war, Thy victory, 
 
 And Death is fwallow'd up in Life. 
 Thy ftrife, O Chrift, with Death of yore 
 Hath conquer'd, and I fear no more. 
 
 Anon. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Lord Jefus Chrift, true Man and God 
 Who boreft anguifh, fcorn, the rod, 
 And diedft at laft upon the tree, 
 To bring Thy Father's grace to me ; 
 I pray Thee through that bitter woe, 
 Let me, a finner, mercy know. 
 
24° Cgra (fätvmanka. 
 
 When comes the hour of failing breath, 
 And I mull wreftle, Lord, with death, 
 When from my fight all fades away, 
 And when my tongue no more can fay, 
 And when mine ears no more can hear, 
 And when my heart is rack'd with fear ; 
 
 When all my mind is darken'd o'er, 
 And human help can do no more, 
 Then come, Lord Jefus, come with fpeed. 
 And help me in my hour of need, 
 Lead me from this dark vale beneath, 
 And ihorten then the pangs of death. 
 
 All evil fpirits drive away, 
 But let Thy Spirit with me flay 
 Until my foul the body leave ; 
 Then in Thy hands my foul receive, 
 And let the earth my body keep, 
 Till the Lafl Day mail break its fleep. 
 
 Joyful my refurre&ion be, 
 
 Thou in the Judgment plead for me, 
 
 And hide my fins, Lord, from Thy face, 
 
 And give me Life of Thy dear grace ! 
 
 I truft Thee utterly, my Lord, 
 
 For Thou haft promifed in Thy Word: 
 
 "In truth I tell you, who receives 
 My word, and keeps it, and believes, 
 Shall never fall God's wrath beneath, 
 Shall never tafte eternal death ; 
 
Cgra (Bfennanica. 2 * ! 
 
 Though here on earth, in time, he die, 
 He is not therefore loft; for I 
 Will come, and with a mighty hand 
 Will break away Death's ftrongeft band, 
 And lift him hence that he fhall be 
 For ever in my realm with Me, 
 For ever living there in blifs." 
 Ah let us not that glory mifs! 
 
 Dear Lord, forgive us all our guilt, 
 Help us to wait until Thou wilt 
 That we depart ; and let our faith 
 Be brave and conquer e'en in death, 
 Firm refting on Thy facred word, 
 Until we fleep in Thee, our Lord. 
 
 Paul Eber. 1557, 
 
 Go and dig my grave to-day ! 
 
 Weary of my wanderings all, 
 Now from earth I pafs away, 
 
 For the heavenly peace doth call; 
 Angel voices from above 
 Call me to their reft and love. 
 
 Go and dig my grave to-day ! 
 
 Homeward doth my journey tend, 
 And I lay my ftaff away 
 
 Here where all things earthly end, 
 And I lay my weary head 
 In the only painlefs bed. 
 12 
 
H 2 Cgra (Sformanka. 
 
 What is there I yet ftiould do, 
 Lingering in this darkfome vale? 
 
 Proud, and mighty, fair to view, 
 Are our fchemes, and yet they fail, 
 
 Like the fand before the wind, 
 
 That no power of man can bind. 
 
 Farewell earth then; I am glad 
 That in peace I now depart, 
 
 For thy very joys are fad, 
 
 And thy hopes deceive the hearf • 
 
 Fleeting is thy beauty's gleam, 
 
 Falfe and changing as a dream. 
 
 And to you a laft good night, 
 Sun and moon and ftars fo dear; 
 
 Farewell all your golden light; 
 I am travelling far from here, 
 
 To the fplendours of that day 
 Where ye all muft fade away. 
 
 Farewell, O ye much-loved friends ! 
 
 Grief hath fmote you as a fword, 
 But the Comforter defcends 
 
 Unto them who love the Lord. 
 Weep not o'er a paffing fhow, 
 To th' eternal world I go. 
 
 Weep not that I take my leave 
 Of the world; that I exchange 
 
 Errors that too clofely cleave, 
 Shadows, empty ghofts that rang? 
 
Cgra (ffiwmamca. 2 43 
 
 Through this world of nought and night, 
 For a land of truth and light. 
 
 Weep not, deareft to my heart, 
 
 For I find my Saviour near, 
 And I know that I have part 
 
 In the pains He fiiffer'd here, 
 When He fhed His facred blood 
 For the whole world's higheft good. 
 
 Weep not, my Redeemer lives; 
 
 Heavenward fpringing from the duft, 
 Clear-eyed Hope her comfort gives ; 
 
 Faith, Heaven's champion, bids us traft ; 
 Love eternal whifpers nigh, 
 "Child of God, fear not to die!" 
 
 E. M. Arndt. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Then I have conquer'd ; then at laft 
 
 My courfe is run, good night ! 
 I am well pleafed that it is paft; 
 
 A thoufand times, good night! 
 But ye, dear friends, whom I muft leave, 
 
 Look not thus anxioufly; 
 Why mould ye thus lament and grieve? 
 
 It ftandeth well with me. 
 
2 4+ Cgrcr Germanica. 
 
 Farewell, O anguifh, pain, and fear, 
 
 Farewell, farewell for ever ! 
 It glads my heart to leave you here, 
 
 Redeem'd from you for ever! 
 Henceforth a life of joy I fhare, 
 
 In my Creator's hand; 
 None of the griefs can touch me there, 
 
 That haunt this lower land. 
 
 Who yet o'er earth in time mull roam, 
 
 Not yet from error free, 
 Scarce lifp the language of our home, 
 
 The glad eternity. 
 Far better is a happy death, 
 
 Than worldly life, I trow; 
 The weaknefs once I fank beneath, 
 
 I never more fhall know. 
 
 Lay on my coffin many a wreath, 
 
 For conquerors wreath'd are feen; 
 And lo ! my foul attains through death 
 
 The crown of evergreen, 
 That blooms in fadelefs groves of heaven 
 
 And this fair vi&or's crown, 
 That mighty Son of God hath given, 
 
 Who for my fake came down. 
 
 'Twas but awhile that I was fent 
 
 To dwell among you here; 
 Now God refumes what He hath lent, 
 
 Oh grieve not o'er my bier; 
 
jEgra ©ttrmantca. 2 45 
 
 But fay, 'twas given at His command 
 
 Who takes it, He is juft; 
 Our life and death are in His hand, 
 
 Hi? fervants can but trull. 
 
 That ye mould fee my grave, alas ! 
 
 Shows we are frail indeed; 
 That it fo foon mould come to pals, 
 
 Our Father hath decreed; 
 And He your bitter grief mall Hill. 
 
 Think not too young am I, 
 For he who dies as God doth will, 
 
 Is old enough to die. 
 
 Farewell, thou dear, dear foul, farewell! 
 
 To thofe fweet pleafures go, 
 That we who mourning here mull dwell, 
 
 Not yet, alas ! can know. 
 Ah when lhall that great day be come, 
 
 When thefe things fade away, 
 And thou lhalt bid us welcome home; 
 
 Would God it were to-day! 
 
 Sacer. 1665. 
 
 VII. 
 
 My God, to Thee I now commend 
 My foul; for Thou, O Lord, 
 
 Doll live and love me without end, 
 And wilt perform Thy word. 
 
24 6 Cgra Germanica, 
 
 To whom elfe mould I make my plea, 
 
 That heavenly life be mine? 
 All fouls, my God, belong to Thee, 
 
 My foul is alfo Thine. 
 
 Thou gav'ft my fpirit at my birth, 
 Take back what Thou haft given; 
 
 And with the Lord I ferved on earth, 
 Grant me to live in heaven. 
 
 My foul is fprinkled o'er with blood 
 
 Thy Son hath fhed for us, 
 And in Thy fight is pure and good, 
 
 Adorn'd and radiant thus. 
 
 Thou my deliverer waft of yore, 
 From fin Thou mad'ft me free, 
 
 Now, faithful God, doft Thou once more 
 In death deliver me. 
 
 Thou liv'ft and loveft without end, 
 
 And doft perform Thy word; 
 My palling foul I now commend 
 
 To Thee, my God and Lord! 
 
 HlLLER. I765, 
 
FOR THE BURIAL OF 
 THE DEAD. 
 
Cgra (Süm-manica. 2 49 
 
 FOR THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD. 
 
 o 
 
 H WEEP not, mourn not o'er this bier, 
 On fuch death none mould look with fear; 
 He died as dies a Chriftian man, 
 And with his death true life began. 
 
 Coffin and grave we deck with care, 
 His body reverently we bear, 
 Tt is not dead but refts in God, 
 And foftlv fleeps beneath the foJ, 
 
 It feems as all were over now,^ 
 The heavy limbs, the foullefs brow, — 
 Yet through thefe rigid limbs once more 
 A nobler life, ere long, ihall pour. 
 
 Thefe dead dry bones again mail feel 
 
 New warmth and vigour through them ileal; 
 
 Reknit and living they mail foar 
 
 On high where Chrifl lives evermore. 
 
 This body, lying ftiff and Hark, 
 Shall rife unharm'd from out the dark, 
 And fwiftly mount up through the ikies, 
 Even as the fpirit heavenwards flies. 
 
 12* 
 
2 S° £gra Germanica. 
 
 The buried grain of wheat mufl die, 
 Wither'd and worthlefs long muft lie, 
 Yet fprings to light all fweet and fair, 
 And proper fruits fhall richly bear: 
 
 Even fo this body made of dull, 
 To earth we once again entruft, 
 And painlefs it fhall flumber here, 
 Until the Lall Great Day appear. 
 
 God breathed into this houfe of clay 
 The fpirit that hath pafs'd away, 
 Chrift gave the true courageous mind, 
 The noble heart, ye no more find. 
 
 Now earth has hid it from our eyes, 
 Till God fhall bid it wake and rife, 
 Who ne'er the creature will forget, 
 On whom His image He hath fet. 
 
 Ah would that promifed Day were here, 
 When Chrift fhall once again appear; 
 Then fhall He call, nor one be loft, 
 To endlefs life earth's buried hoft. 
 
 N. Hermann. 1560, 
 After Prüden tius. 
 
 II. 
 
 Now refts her foul in Jefu's arms, 
 Her body in the grave fleeps well, 
 
 His heart her death-chill'd heart re- warms, 
 And reft more deep than tongue can tell,- 
 
Cgra (Hfermantca. 
 
 2U 
 
 Her few brief hours of conflict pafs'd, — 
 
 She finds with Chrift, her Friend, at laft; 
 
 She bathes in tranquil feas of peace, 
 God wipes away her tears, fhe feels 
 New life that all her languor heals, 
 
 The glory of the Lamb fhe fees. 
 
 She hath efcaped all danger now, 
 
 Her pain and fighing all are fled; 
 The crown of joy is on her brow, 
 
 Eternal glories o'er her fhed, 
 In golden robes, a queen, a bride, 
 She ftandeth at her Sovereign's fide, 
 She fees His face unveil'd and bright; 
 With joy and love He greets her foul, 
 She feels herfelf made inly whole, 
 A lefTer light amid His light. 
 
 The child hath now its Father feen, 
 And feels what kindling love may be, 
 
 And knoweth what thofe words may mean, 
 "Himfelf, the Father, loveth thee." 
 
 A fhorelefs ocean, an abyfs 
 
 Unfathom'd, fill'd with good and blifs, 
 
 Now breaks on her enraptured fight; 
 She fees God's face, fhe learneth there 
 What this fhall be, to be His heir, 
 
 Joint-heir with Chrift her Lord, in light. 
 
 The body refts, its labours over, 
 
 And fleeps till Chrift fhall bid it wake; 
 
 The duft that earth and darknefs cover, 
 Then as a fun its tomb fhall break. 
 
*5 2 Cgra ©tnnanica. 
 
 Ah with what joy it rifes then 
 
 To meet the perfecl foul again ! 
 
 Redeem'd from death, no more to fever, 
 At that great marriage fealt fhall they 
 With all the faints their homage pay, 
 
 And worfhip there the Lamb for ever. 
 
 We who yet wander through the wafle, 
 In faith long after thee on high; 
 
 While here the bread of tears we tafle, 
 We think upon that home of joy, 
 
 Where we (who knows how foon ? ) fhall meet 
 
 With all the faints at Jefu's feet, 
 
 And dwell with Him for ever there. 
 We fhall fee God; how deep the blifs 
 We know not yet that lies in this; 
 
 Lord Jefus, come,- our hearts prepare ! 
 
 Allendorf. 1725. 
 
 III. 
 
 Oh how blefTed, faithful fouls, are ye, 
 
 Who have paffed ' through death; your God ye fee; 
 
 Efcaped at lafl 
 From all the forrows that yet hold us fail! 
 
 Here as in a prifon we are bound, 
 Care and fear, and terrors hem us round, 
 
 And all we know 
 It is but toil and grief of heart below. 
 
Cjjra ©armanfca. 2 S3 
 
 While that ye are refting in your home, 
 Safe from pain, all mifery o'ercome, 
 
 No grief or crois 
 Mixes with yonder joys to work you lofs. 
 
 Chrift doth wipe away your every tear, 
 Ye poflefs what we but long for here, 
 
 To you is fung 
 The fong that ne'er through mortal ears hath rung. 
 
 Who is there that would not gladly die, 
 Changing earth for fuch a home on high, 
 
 Or who would flay 
 To toil amid thefe forrows night and day? 
 
 Come, O Chrift, releafe us from our poft, 
 Lead us quickly hence to yonder hoft, 
 
 Whofe battle won, 
 Now drink in joy and blifs from Thee our Sun. 
 
 Simon Dach. 1650. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 The numbers on the left hand are the numbers of the 
 original hymns in the " Verfuch eines allgemeinen 
 Gefang und Gebet Buchs," from which thefe hymns 
 are tranilated. 
 
 No. Page 
 
 '1 70. Ah wounded Head ! Muft Thou . . 80 
 
 151. Alas, dear Lord, what evil haft Thou done 77 
 
 135. All ye Gentile lands awake! . . 30 
 
 881. Am I a ftranger here, on earth alone . 57 
 
 298. Awake, O man, and from thee fhake . 61 
 
 493. Awake, thou carelefs world, awake . 4 
 
 627. Awake, Thou Spirit, who of old . . 41 
 
 428. Be thou content . . . . 156 
 
 532. Chrift, Thou the champion of the band 105 
 
 787. Come, brethren, let us go . . . 161 
 
 741. Come deck our feaft to-day . . .110 
 
 211. Come, Holy Spirit, God and Lord . 117 
 
 24. Come, my foul, awake, 'tis morning . 216 
 
 216. Come to Thy temple here on earth . 113 
 
 468. Cometh funfhine after rain . . .100 
 
 23. Day-fpring of Eternity 
 824. Dear foul, couldft thou become a child 
 
 839. Eternity! Eternity! . 
 
 239. Fear not, O little flock, the foe . 
 
 4.03. Follow me, in me ye live 
 
 924. From heaven above to earth I come 
 
 219 
 
 22 
 
 26 
 
 *7 
 
 188 
 
 12 
 
256 
 
 Unlet. 
 
 Great High-prieft who deigndft to be 
 God liveth ever! 
 
 God is our ftronghold firm and fure 
 God who madeft earth and heaven 
 God! whom I as love have known 
 638. Go and dig my grave to-day 
 847. Go forth, my heart, and feek delight 
 
 580 
 
 43 6 
 235 
 
 884. 
 
 480. Heart and heart together bound . 
 788. Heavenward doth our journey tend 
 292. Here, O my God, I caft me at Thy feet 
 
 87. Hofanna to the Son of David ! Raife 
 * How bleft to all Thy followers, Lord, the 
 road .... 
 76. How mail I meet Thee? How my heart 
 
 780. If Thou, True Life, wilt in me live 
 429. If God be on my fide . 
 179. In the bonds of death He lay 
 
 481. In the midft of life, behold • 
 800. I will not let Thee go . 
 
 194. Jefus my Redeemer lives 
 
 877. Leave all to God 
 
 435. Leave God to order all thy ways . 
 
 412. Let who will in thee rejoice . 
 79. Lift up your heads ye mighty gates 
 
 141. Light of the Gentile world . 
 
 708. Long in the fpirit world my foul had foug 
 
 482. Lord Jefus Chrift, true Man and God 
 734. Lord, on earth I dwell in pain 
 152. Lord! Thy death and paffion give 
 497. Loving Shepherd, kind and true . 
 
 825. Many a gift did Chrift impart 
 
 413. Moft High and Holy Trinity ! 
 
 ht 
 
 32 
 
 33 
 
 173 
 213 
 
 236 
 
 241 
 
 136 
 
 124 
 
 108 
 
 67 
 
 *75 
 
 7 
 
 19 
 
 130 
 
 87 
 
 235 
 
 59 
 
 93 
 
 l 59 
 152 
 
 180 
 
 10 
 
 193 
 191 
 
 239 
 106 
 
 72 
 
 98 
 
 5c 
 119 
 
 No. 156 in the fmaller collection. 
 
jJnto*. 
 
 257 
 
 914. My God! lo here before Thy face 
 907. My God, to Thee I now commend 
 761. My Saviour, what Thou didft of old 
 
 848. Nothing fair on earth I fee . 
 
 291. Not in anger finite us, Lord 
 
 912. Now refts her foul in Jefu's arms . 
 
 51. Now reft the woods again 
 
 473, O Crofs, we hail thy bitter reign . 
 346. O Friend of fouls, how well is me 
 414. O God, I long Thy light to fee . 
 727. O Glorious Head: Thou liveft now 
 739. O God, O Spirit, Light of all that live 
 219. O Holy Ghoft, Thou Fire Divine 
 113. O Thou Eflential Word 
 
 30. O watchman, will the night of fin . 
 240. Oh how blefTed, faithful fouls, are ye 
 846. Oh would I nad a thoufand tongues 
 632. Oh weep not, mourn not o'er this bier 
 402. Oh well for him who all things braves 
 394. One thing is needful . 
 882. Once more from reft I rife again . 
 747. On wings of faith, ye thoughts fly hence 
 282. Out of the depths I cry to Thee . 
 
 233« 
 
 777' 
 
 78, 
 
 Praife and thanks to Thee be fung 
 Pure EfTence! Spotlefs Fount of Light 
 
 Reft of the weary ! Tnou . 
 Redeemer of the nations ! Come . 
 
 316. Shall I not fing praife to Thee 
 806. Strive, when thou art call'd of God 
 
 102. Thee, O Immanuel, we praife 
 60. The day expires . 
 
 38 
 
 245 
 
 S3 
 
 48 
 
 55 
 
 250 
 
 226 
 
 »54 
 
 147 
 
 H5 
 89 
 
 140 
 IO3 
 
 is 
 
 I 
 252 
 170 
 
 249 
 
 167 
 
 183 
 
 220 
 
 121 
 
 65 
 
 205 
 
 43 
 
 85 
 
 18Ö 
 
 200 
 
 46 
 
 24 
 228 
 
 * No. 73 in the fmaller colleftion. 
 
258 
 
 ünhtx. 
 
 19. The golden funbeams . 
 
 46. The happy funfhine all is gone 
 697. The moon hath rifen on high 
 640. Then I have conquered ; then at lall 
 865. Though all to Thee were faithlefs. 
 165. Thou Holieft Love, whom moll I love 
 340. Thou weepell o'er Jerufalem 
 372. Thy Word, O Lord, like gentle dews 
 
 663 
 
 855, 
 
 35 2 
 
 795 
 
 154 
 
 888, 
 
 667 
 460. 
 
 Welcome, Thou vidtor in the llrife 
 Well for him who all things loling 
 What had I been if Thou wert not 
 What within me and without 
 When forrow and remorfe . 
 When the lall agony draws nigh . 
 Who are thofe before God's Throne 
 Who feeks in weaknefs an excufe . 
 
 807. Why haltell thus, deluded heart . 
 
 812. Wouldll thou inherit life with Chrill 
 
 449. Yea, my fpirit fain would fink 
 501. Yes, there remaineth yet a reft 
 
 214 
 
 225 
 229 
 
 243 
 165 
 
 83 
 70 
 
 36 
 
 9 1 
 
 134 
 
 96 
 
 126 
 
 74 
 
 239 
 
 207 
 
 149 
 142 
 129 
 
 198 
 l 9S 
 
 TH9 WD. 
 
I