What folk is this now drawing near to me, This throng of worthies blest? These, one time of th'elect on earth, I see; The noblest crown and best Which Christ, with grace compelling, Sent me in other years When still far distant dwelling In mine own land of tears. Lo, patriarchs renowned and prophets great And gathered saintly folk, Who while on earth endured the tyrant's hate And wore the Savior's yoke! But soaring now in freedom, With honor clothed upon, Midst radiant light I see them, And shining like the sun. Then when at length I enter in a thrill That Paradise of God, My every sense with rapturous joy will fill, My mouth with praise and laud. Hosannas there ascending Make holy minstrelsy, With Alleluiahs blending For all eternity. With instruments and with a joyful noise Are choirs unnumbered singing, Till by the sound and shoutings set apoise The courts of joy are ringing. With ten ten-thousand voices And tens of thousands more, The heavenly host rejoices As ever from of yore. Johann Matthaeus Meyfart, 1626. Tr. A. Ramsey, 1916. Unter Lilien jener Freuden. Midst the lilies blooming yonder Thou shalt wander, Oh my soul, and be at home. Rise, then, as on eagle-pinions-- Thy dominions Are above where angels roam. Guide my ship, Thou First-born Brother, To no other Than that peaceful haven where, Sheltered from all storms forever, I shall never Know of sorrow, sin or care. Thou canst fill our mouths with laughter, And hereafter Make our tongues to sing Thy praise. Thou canst softly lead us mortals Through death's portals And above all evils raise. For our sins and grievous errors All the terrors Of the cross Thou didst endure. Death, thy sting for aye has vanished, Thou art banished, And I rest from thee secure. J. L. K. Allendorf, 1731. Tr. H. Brueckner, 1917. Die wir uns allhier beisammen finden. Gathered here, we join our hands, O Savior, And upon Thy death unite, Ever to be true in our behavior Unto Thee, eternal Light. And as here Thy praises, Lord, are spoken, Enter Thou into our midst in token Of Thy love so pure and true, Saying, "Peace I give to you!" C. R. Zinzendorf, 1754. Tr. H. Brueckner, 1916. Index