Paul Gerhardt's Spiritual Songs: Translated by John KellyGerhardt, Paul
Religion
Paul Gerhardt's Spiritual Songs: Translated by John Kelly
Gerhardt, Paul
Hymns, English; Hymns, German -- Translations into English
Thou who dost Israel console,
Thou, Saviour, in affliction!
Ah! why permittest Thou my soul
To sink in sore dejection?
Thou dost not rest,
Thou'rt as a guest,
Who'rt in the land a stranger!
A hero Thou
Whose courage low
Sinks 'fore disgrace or danger?
Nay, Lord, not such a one art Thou!
My inmost heart believeth;
Thou standest firm, 'mid us shines now
The light that Thy word giveth.
Here restest Thou,
Lord, with us now;
Who call upon Thee ever,
At fitting hour
Wilt by Thy pow'r
From ev'ry woe deliver.
O Lord! my lengthen'd tale is o'er,
Then hear Thou my petition,
Help me, who often at Thy door
Have knock'd, and sought admission.
Help, Helper, me!
I'll joyfully
Thankoff'rings lay before Thee;
And when life's o'er
Shall evermore
In heav'n above adore Thee.
'TIS PATIENCE MUST SUPPORT YOU.--HEB. X. 35-37.
'Tis patience must support you
When sorrow, grief, or smart,
Or whate'er else may hurt you,
Doth rend your aching heart.
Belov'd and chosen seed!
If not a death will kill you,
Yet once again I tell you,
'Tis patience that you need.
The cup of patience drinketh
With nausea flesh and blood,
Back from the cross it shrinketh;
When threaten'd with the rod,
It shuddereth with fear.
'Tis bold when nought assaileth,
Heart shrinks, and courage faileth,
When storms and rain are here.
Why patience causeth sadness,
Is that the carnal mind
Unclouded joy and gladness
In God aye hop'd to find,
Though He hath made it clear,
He chastens whom He loveth,
And whom He much approveth,
He much afflicteth here.
God giveth patience ever,
The Spirit in the breast
Begetteth it whenever
Within us He doth rest;
The worthy, noble Guest
Preserves us from despairing,
And nerves for burden-bearing
The heart when sore distress'd.
From faith all patience springeth,
On God's own word depends,
To this she firmly clingeth,
Herself with this defends.
'Tis her high tow'r and wall,
Where she securely hideth,
Where God for her provideth,
Here fears she ne'er a fall.
And patience trust reposeth
On Jesu's death and pain;
When Satan her opposeth,
Here takes she heart again,
And saith, "Thou Prince of hell!
Thou never shalt devour me,
Too high I'm lifted o'er thee,
In Jesus do I dwell."
Contented patience stayeth
On God's decree all-wise;
Although His grace delayeth,
Scarce feels fatigue arise;
With trust she bears her load,
And joyfully endureth,
This thought her heart assureth,
It is the hand of God.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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