Paul Gerhardt's Spiritual Songs Part 32

Triumph now, for thou, victorious By the pow'r of G.o.d most high, Sonlike in thy strength so glorious, Walk'st amid the Company Of the city fair and new, Which the Lord hath built for you; With the angels join'st in singing, Sweetest songs from heart up-springing.

Jesus bids thee cease from weeping Wipes the tear-drop from thine eye; Free thy heart from sorrow keeping All thy need doth He supply.

In thy cup now running o'er Wishest thou but one thing more, That thy friends who here still wander Were thy bliss now sharing yonder.

To the realms we'll come so glorious, Out of sorrow into joy; Thee with myriad saints victorious See in bliss without alloy.

Oh! how bless'd and fair 'twill be, When we all shall dwell with Thee; When is o'er life's chequer'd story, And we reign in endless glory.

OF THE LAST DAY.

The time is very near When, Lord, Thou wilt be here The signs whereof Thou'st spoken Thine advent should betoken, We've seen them oft fulfilling In number beyond telling.

What shall I do then, Lord?

But rest upon Thy word, The promise Thou hast given That Thou wilt come from heaven, Me from the grave deliver And from all woe for ever.

Ah! Jesus Christ, how fair Wilt be my portion there!

The welcome Thou'lt address me, Thy glances, how they'll bless me, When I the earth forsaking, My flight to Thee am taking.

Ah! what will be the word Thou'lt speak, my Shepherd Lord!

What will be then Thy greeting, Me and my brethren meeting?

Thy members Thou wilt own us, And near Thyself enthrone us.

And in that blessed hour, How shall I have the pow'r Mine eyelids dry of keeping, How tears of joy from weeping Refrain, that flowing over My cheeks, like floods would cover?

And what a beauteous light Will from Thy face so bright Beam on me, then in heaven, When sight of Thee is given, Thy goodness then me filling, Joy will my breast be swelling.

I'll see then and adore Thy body bruised sore, Whereon our faith is founded, The prints of nails that wounded Thy hands and feet be greeting, Thy gaze with rapture meeting.

Thou, Lord, alone dost know The joys so pure that flow In life's unfailing river In paradise for ever, Thou can'st portray, and show them: By faith alone I know them.

What I've believ'd stands sure, Remaineth aye secure; My part the wealth surpa.s.seth; The richest here ama.s.seth; All other wealth decayeth My portion ever stayeth.

My G.o.d, my fairest Part!

How will my bounding heart With joy be overflowing, Praise evermore renewing, When through the door of heaven By Thee is entrance given?

Thou'lt say, "Come, taste and see, Oh! child, belov'd by me, Come, taste the gifts so precious I and my Father gracious Have to bestow, come hither, In pleasure bask for ever."

Alas! thou world so poor!

Of wealth, what is thy store?

Mean is it to be holden, Compar'd with all the golden Crowns and thrones Jesus placeth For whom He loves and graceth.

Here is the angel's home, Bless'd spirits. .h.i.ther come, Here nought is heard but singing, Nought seen but joy up-springing, No cross, no death, no sorrow, No parting on the morrow.

Hold! hold! my sense so weak!

What dost thou think and speak, What's fathomless, art sounding?

What's measureless, art bounding?

Here must man's wit be bending The eloquent be ending.

Lord! I delight in Thee, Thou ne'er shalt go from me, Thy hand in bounty giveth More than my heart conceiveth, Or I can e'er be counting, So high Thy mercy's mounting.

How sad, O Lord, am I, Until I from on high See Thee in glory hither Come, Thine own to deliver, Wert Thou but now revealing Thyself! my wish fulfilling!

The time is known to Thee; It best becometh me To be prepar'd for going, And all things so be doing, That every moment even My heart may be in Heaven.

This grant, Lord, and me bless.

That so Thy truth and grace May keep me ever waking, That Thy day not o'ertaking Me unawares, affright me, But may, O Lord! delight me.

FROM THE REVELATION OF JOHN.--CHAP. VII.

By John was seen a wondrous sight, A n.o.ble light, A picture very glorious: A mult.i.tude stood 'fore him there All bright and fair, On heav'nly plain victorious; Their heart and mood Were full of good, That mortal man With gold ne'er can Procure, so high 'tis o'er us.

Palm branches in their hands they bore, They stood before The Lamb's throne, 'fore the Saviour; Praise from their lips did ever flow, Their robes like snow, Their song still higher ever, So sweetly rang; Glad thanks they sang, And in their song The holy throng Of angels joined ever.

"Who," said the wond'ring John, "are they In white array, Whom now I see before me?"

"They are," said one from out the crowd That round him stood, One of the elders h.o.a.ry, "They're men, my son, Who fought and won The fight of faith, Despis'd the scath, Attain'd the prize of glory.

"They're those who on the earth below, Long, long ago, Pa.s.s'd through great tribulation; Who for the honour of their Lord And of His word, All grief and all vexation, From blame all free But patiently, Though smarting sore By G.o.d's help bore, O'ercame with exultation.

"They wash'd their robes and made them white (Their hearts were right), In faith's bath them renewing, And they resisted evermore With all their pow'r h.e.l.l's art, it quite subduing, Did aye deride Earth's pomp and pride, Chose Jesu's blood As their chief good, All other good eschewing.

"And therefore with their doings, they Stand there for aye, Where G.o.d's fair temple's standing, The temple where they night and day Praise G.o.d for aye, His glorious name commending.

There do they live With nought to grieve, From toil all free Joys taste and see, That never know an ending.

"There in His dwelling sitteth G.o.d And spreads abroad His goodness as a cover, There with bliss manifold is bless'd In quiet rest, The wearied whose life's over; What pleasure gives, The heart relieves, The longing stills, And the eye fills, In full bloom stands there ever.

"No thirst, nor hunger there, no need; The heav'nly bread All wants aye satisfieth; And s.h.i.+neth there the sun no more In too great pow'r, Its light pure joy supplieth; Heav'n's sun so bright And heart's delight, Is our great Lord The living Word, Who no good thing denieth."

The Lamb His flock will ever feed E'en as they need, In pastures never wasting; He will them to the fountain bring, Whence ever spring Streams of life everlasting; And certainly Ne'er rest will He, Till wash'd away All tears for aye Are, and His bliss we're tasting.