Hymns from the German.

by Various.

Preface.

Germany, since the time of the Reformation, has always had its sacred poets; yet their beautiful hymns were till of late unknown in England, except to the few who read them in the original.

This small selection, now re-published in a slightly enlarged edition, was perhaps the first attempt to make them known to English readers. Some of its former contents are here replaced by hymns of more value.

Most of these were pointed out to the Translator as "national treasures"

by the late Baron Bunsen, on whose authority the names and dates of the authors are given, and from whose large collection the hymns, with one exception, are taken. That ent.i.tled "Gethsemane," recently translated for Lyra Mystica, is from a Treves hymn-book. The proximity of the German, which, as in the first Edition, is printed on corresponding pages, will betray that in this instance, as also in three or four others, the metre has been changed. In this hymn especially it was difficult to retain the short line and double rhyme in English verse, with sufficient reverence for the solemn theme.

The originals will, it is hoped, recommend this volume to young students of German, who may wish to become acquainted with some of the hymns of Gerhard, Angelus, and others, without searching through collections which mostly comprise several hundreds.

Morning Hymn.

O speak good of the Lord, all ye Works of His, in all Places of His Dominion: praise thou the Lord, O my Soul.

_Ps._ ciii. 22.

How lovely now the morning-star In twilight sky bright gleams afar, While Night her curtain raiseth; Each creature hails, with ravished sight, The glories of returning light, And G.o.d its Maker praiseth: Both far, And near, All things living Thanks are giving, There high soaring, Here through earth's wide field adoring.

Then haste, my Soul, thy notes to raise, Nor spare in thy Redeemer's Praise To pour thy due Oblation; For glory, Lord, to Thee belongs, Thy Praise resounds in grateful songs, With pious emulation: Joy rings Glad strings: Voices sounding, Hearts rebounding, Thus all Nature Hymns Thy fame, O great Creator.

Unconscious, I securely slept, Nor saw the cruel foes which kept Close watch about my slumber; Though evil spirits, through the night, With h.e.l.lish craft and watchful spite, Came round me without number; Whose hands In bands, Mischief brewing For my ruin, Had enslaved me, Hadst not Thou stood by and saved me.

For, Jesus, Thou with saving Power, Wast near me in that threatening hour, And warded off their fury; And I reposed in quiet sleep, Whilst Thou unwearied watch didst keep; To Thee all Praise and Glory!

My heart's Best part, Upward springing, Loudly singing, Shall adore Thee, While on earth I walk before Thee.

This day my Fortress, Lord, abide, Now ope Thy Gates of Mercy wide, Within their shelter place me; My Castle and my Rock Thou art, O let no foeman's treacherous dart From Thee, my Stronghold, chase me.

Help, Lord, Afford!

Near me tarry, Blows to parry, While around me Sword and arrow sore confound me.

Pour down Thy grace in cheering streams, And warm my heart with Mercy's beams, From heaven, Thy Throne of Beauty; Let Thy Good Spirit guide my will, That I, whate'er my station, still May seek my Joy in Duty: Send Light, And Might, That each measure, Scheme and pleasure, Heavenward tending, Still in Thee may find its ending.

Keep grief, if this may be, away,- If not, Thy Will be done, I say, My choice to Thine resigning; O come, and like the morning dew, Refresh my heart, and make it new, That I may, unrepining, Bear cross, And loss, Till that morrow Chase all sorrow, When upraised Where Thy Name is ever praised.

Meanwhile, my heart, both sing and leap, Mid cross and loss good courage keep, To Heaven's bright Gate you hasten; Then lay desponding care aside, G.o.d ever thus His Own hath tried, And those He loves doth chasten; Hope still, Midst ill, Calm though grieving, Firm believing Tribulation Is the road to sure Salvation.

Abendlied.

Beschirme mich unter dem Schatten deiner Flugel.

Nun ruhen alle Walder, Vieh, Menschen, Stadt und Felder, Es schlaft die ganze Welt: Ihr aber, meine Sinnen, Auf, auf, ihr sollt beginnen, Was eurem Schopfer wohlgefallt.

Wo bist du, Sonne, blieben?

Die Nacht hat dich vertrieben, Die Nacht, des Tages Feind: Fahr hin, ein andre Sonne, Mein Jesus, meine Wonne, Gar h.e.l.l in meinem Herzen scheint.

Der Tag ist nun vergangen, Die goldnen Sternlein prangen Am blauen Himmelssaal: Also werd ich auch stehen, Wenn mich wird heissen gehen Mein Gott aus diesem Jammerthal.

Der Leib eilt nun zur Ruhe, Legt ab das Kleid und Schuhe, Das Bild der Sterblichkeit: Die zieh ich aus, dagegen Wird Christus mir anlegen Den Rock der Ehr und Herrlichkeit.

Das Haupt, die Fuss und Hande Sind froh, da.s.s nun zum Ende Die Arbeit kommen sei: Herz, freu dich, du sollst werden Vom Elend dieser Erden Und von der Sunden Arbeit frei.

Nun geht, ihr matten Glieder, Geht hin, und legt euch nieder, Der Betten ihr begehrt: Es kommen Stund und Zeiten, Da man euch wird bereiten Zur Ruh ein Bettlein in der Erd.

Mein Augen stehn verdrossen, Im Nu sind sie geschlossen, Wo bleibt denn Leib und Seel?

Nimm sie zu Deinen Gnaden, Sei gut fur allen Schaden, Du Aug und Wachter Israel.

Breit aus die Flugel beide, O Jesu, meine Freude, Und nimm dein Kuchlein ein; Will Satan mich verschlingen, So la.s.s die Englein singen: "Diess Kind soll unverletzet sein."

Auch euch, ihr meine Lieben, Soll heunte nicht betruben Ein Unfall noch Gefahr: Gott la.s.s euch ruhig schlafen, Stell euch die goldnen Waffen Ums Bett, und seiner Helden Schaar.

Paul Gerhard. 1606-1676.

Evening Hymn.

Hide me under the Shadow of Thy Wings.

_Ps._ xvii. 8.

Now hushed are woods and waters, At rest toil's sons and daughters, The world aslumber lies; But thou, my Soul, awake thee, To prayer and song betake thee, And bid their grateful incense rise.

Sun, whither hast thou vanished?

The night, day's foe, has banished At length each lingering beam; But Jesus now draws nearer, A better Sun and dearer Sheds through my heart a warmer gleam.

The day has fled defeated- In heaven's deep azure seated, Stars shine, a golden band; I too, on that bright morrow, Called from this vale of sorrow, Like them, in heaven with G.o.d shall stand.

To rest my body hasteth, Aside its garments casteth, Types of our mortal state; When I put off this mortal, At death's mysterious portal, Christ's pure white Robes my soul await.

As day's turmoil is closing, Head, hands, and feet reposing, Welcome the set of sun; Cheer up, my heart, with gladness!

Thou, free from sin and sadness, Wilt joy when life's long task is done.

Tired limbs, how toil oppressed you!

Ye long in bed to rest you, And thou, my weary head!