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
The sighing of thy soul He ever,
And thy heart's deep plaint is hearing;
What to another thou wouldst never
Tell, reveal to God, ne'er fearing.
He is not far,
But standeth near thee,
Who poor men's pray'r
Marks, soon will hear thee.
Be thou contented!
To God cleave, He'll salvation show thee,
Let not anguish then depress thee;
Although devouring floods o'erflow thee,
Rise above it, He will bless thee.
When 'neath the load
Thy back low bendeth,
Thy Prince and God
Soon succour sendeth.
Be thou contented!
Why for thy life should care so grieve thee,
How to nourish and sustain it?
Thy God, who ever life doth give thee,
Will provide for and maintain it.
He hath a hand
With gifts o'erflowing,
On sea and land
For aye bestowing.
Be thou contented!
Who for the forest songsters careth,
To their daily portion leads them,
For sheep and ox enough prepareth,
Slakes their thirst, with plenty feeds them;
He'll care for thee,
Thee, lone one! filling,
So bounteously
Thy hunger stilling.
Be thou contented!
Say not, the means nowhere appeareth,
Where I seek, my effort faileth;
God this high name of honour beareth,
Helper, when no help availeth!
When thou and I
Fail to discover
Him, speedily
He'll us recover.
Be thou contented!
Although away thy help is staying,
He will not for ever leave thee;
Tho' anxious makes thee His delaying,
'Tis for thy greater good, believe me.
What on the way
To come ne'er hasteth,
Doth longer stay,
And sweeter tasteth.
Be thou contented!
Though 'gainst thee hosts of foes are scheming,
Let not all their lies affright thee;
Still let them rage against thee, deeming
God will hear it and will right thee.
Doth God support
Thee and thine ever?
The foe can hurt
Or ruin never.
Be thou contented!
To each his share of ill is given,
Would he only see and know it;
No course on earth so fair and even,
That no trouble lurks below it.
Who can declare,
"My house was ever
All free from care,
And troubled never?"
Be thou contented!
So must it be, in vain our grieving,
All men here must suffer ever,
Whate'er upon the earth is living,
Evil days avoideth never.
Affliction's blow
Doth oft depress us,
And lays us low,
And death then frees us.
Be thou contented!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account