Thy Grace our frail tongue teacheth, Spirit of Holy Prayer, Prayer that God’s Temple reacheth, Song that mounts heaven’s stair; Thy suit hath never failed, For, skillful weapons using, Thou wilt take no refusing, Until Thou hast prevailed. Thy bliss no sorrow knoweth, Spirit of Holy Joy! Thy Peace true calm bestoweth, With none of earth’s alloy: E’en in this mortal state, Of pleasure’s golden mansion, Oft-times with wide expansion, Thou openest me the gate. All discord wouldst Thou smother, Spirit of Holy Love! Wouldst have men love each other, As angels do above: The Friend of all below Who act with love’s intention; Of envy, strife, dissension, Thou art the constant Foe. Thou rulest every nation, Each widely distant land; Where’er men’s occupation, Their hearts are in Thy Hand: Let Thy controlling grace In holy concord bind them, Although dispersed it find them Through every time and place. Hear us, Thy help imploring, And make heart-sorrow cease, Thy scattered flock restoring To union, joy, and peace: Bid flourish once again The lands by man forsaken, The churches spoiled and shaken By war’s unhallowed train. Our rulers’ peace securing, O shower Thy blessings down, And make their thrones enduring; Adorn, as with a crown, With piety our youth, Old men with wisdom fitting, Fathers to sons transmitting, From age to age, Thy Truth. The true Faith’s influence nourish Within each heart and mind, While house and garner flourish Beneath Thy favour kind: Keep far, O far apart The foe who makes his pleasure To take away good treasure Once sown within our heart. With steadfast heart and joyous Confirm our Christian band, While ready to destroy us The powers of darkness stand; That so no Christian may, With well-proved weapons furnished, And armour brightly burnished, To Satan fall a prey. According to Thy pleasure Our term of days dispose; And when they reach their measure, And earthly scenes must close, Spirit of Holy Faith! In that dread hour be near us, With gladsome thoughts to cheer us, Of life that knows no death! Gottvertrauen. Es ist ein grosser Gewinn, Wer gottselig ist und lässet ihm genügen. Was Gott thut, das ist wohl gethan; So denken Gottes Kinder. Wer auch nicht reichlich erndten kann, Den liebet Gott nicht minder. Er zieht das Herz Nur himmelwärts, Wenn Er sie lässt auf Erden Beim Mangel traurig werden. Was Gott thut, das ist wohl gethan Im Nehmen und im Geben; Was wir aus seiner Hand empfahn, Genüget uns zum Leben. Er nimmt und giebt, Weil Er uns liebt; Lasst uns in Demuth schweigen Und vor dem Herrn uns beugen.