Hymns from the Morningland: Being Translations, Centos and Suggestions from the Service Books of the Holy Eastern Church
Religion
Hymns from the Morningland: Being Translations, Centos and Suggestions from the Service Books of the Holy Eastern Church
Hymns, Greek -- Translations into English; Orthodox Eastern Church -- Hymns
Rest in the Lord; swift comes the happy time,
When we who strive shall reach Thy fairer clime;
Christ, give us welcome when the toil is past,
And bring us to the bliss of heaven, at last.
{makaria hê hodos, hê poreuê sêmeron, hoti}
{hêtoimasthê soi topos anapauseôs.}
Burial of a layman
I
Thou dost not pass a lonesome way,
O soul released from mortal coil,--
Thou leav'st behind the weight and toil,
And thou art blessed of God to-day.
II
The path thou treadest He hath trod
Whom heaven received from death's abode,--
He knows each turning of the road
That brings the unburdened soul to God.
III
It is not dark, it is not sad,
It is not haunted now with fear,--
The saints have found it full of cheer,
For with His comfort they were glad.
IV
Yea, with His presence thou art blest,
And light upon the path is shed,
For lo, He liveth Who was dead,
And thou art journeying to thy rest.
V
'Tis we, not thou, who are distressed,
For, blessed, blessed, is the way,
O soul, thou journeyest to-day,
That leads to everlasting rest.
Psalm I
I
The man who erring counsel shuns,
Nor strays where sinners meet,
But in the law of God delights
In meditation sweet,
Shall reap the happiness of those
To whom the Lord His favour shews.
II
As tree beside the water brooks
Whose leaf unfading lives,
And when the time appointed comes,
A bounteous fruitage gives;--
So shall he prosper all his days,
Whose hope is in God's law always.
III
Not so the wicked,--they are chaff
Before the wind that flies,
Nor could they stand His searching glance,
Should God in judgment rise;
For known to God are all the right,
But wicked men shall perish quite.
Psalm II
Morning
I
Lord, a band of foes increasing
Terror to my heart would bring;
For they tell my soul unceasing,
That no help from God can spring.
II
Yet Thou art my shield about me,
Till the time of strife is past;
And though cruel foes may flout me,
Thou wilt hear my prayer at last.
III
On my couch when night was falling,
Lay I down devoid of fear;
And when morning light was calling,
I awoke, for thou wert near.
IV
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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