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
I cannot understand the way
By which unerring wisdom leads;
Nor do I know for what to pray,
Unconscious of my deepest needs.
III
Thou, Whose almighty power upholds
The stars that in their courses move,--
Whose eye creation's need beholds
To prompt the outflow of Thy love;--
IV
Teach me in calm content to live
'Mid all the changes life contains,
Assured that, love and wisdom give
The blessing that for aye remains.
V
And in the darkness and the light,
And in the gladness and the pain,
Make me to know that all is right,
And every loss my truest gain.
{porrhô ekpheuxômetha kosmou, hapan to hamartêma.}
I
Far let me flee from worldly sin,
Nor look behind, but onward press;
Lest the deceit that lurks within,
Should link the soul to worldliness.
II
Ah! whither shall I flee, my God?
There is no refuge but in Thee,
And Thy command exceeding broad,
Condemns my soul's perversity.
III
But in Thy grace my troubled soul
Would find forgiveness freely given;
And in Thy Spirit's firm control,
A power to lift me nearer heaven.
IV
Thus shall I flee from worldly sin,
Nor look behind, but onward press,
And daily fight, and daily win
The rich reward of righteousness.
I
Lord of mercy, at Thy gate,
Needy souls imploring pray;
Have we come, Good Lord, too late?
Must we turn in grief away?
II
Young and old Thy mercy claim,--
Some are early at the gate,
Some are late to own Thy name,
Surely none, though late, too late!
III
Blessed, who with morning sun,
Hopeful at Thy portals wait;
Yea, and when the day is done,
Blessed they who find the gate.
IV
Ah, Good Lord, when Thou wert here,
Homeless, in our world of sin,
Few, to give Thee warmth and cheer,
Called their weary Lord within.
V
Sad, repenting, full of fear,
Hoping, doubting, still we wait;
As we call, in mercy hear;--
Open, Lord, to us the gate.
I
Burdened with a heavy load,
Lord, we come, for Thou art calling;
Rough and toilsome is the road,
And the night around is falling.
II
Sin, the burden that we bear,
Fills us with a dread to meet Thee;
Yet, we yield not to despair,
But for mercy would entreat Thee.
III
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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