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But lo! from those hot veins, Forced out by mental pains, Great Drops of Blood adown the verdure fall; Such whelming fears a.s.sail, That heart and courage fail, As first essays of sin's strange load appal.
No other gaze but His Could fathom that abyss, Whose lowest depths to Him stood all revealed; The sins of Adam's race, Against G.o.d's Love and Grace, His thought embraced them all as thus He kneeled.
UnG.o.dly counsels then, And deeds of evil men, All sins of each degree, of every kind; Not as to mortal eyes, But in their h.e.l.lish guise, Were then all bared to His Omniscient Mind.
The ponderous weight of all, From Adam's grievous fall, Till earth's Last Day and solemn Reckoning Time; Of all G.o.d's Books record, The curse, the due reward, Th' iniquity of all now laid on Him!
That high-filled Cup of Woes, His Prescient Mind foreknows, From first approach of Judas' torch-led host; That false disciple's kiss, And all that followed this, Till on the Cross He yielded up the ghost.
Each furrowed, bleeding gash, From cruel scourge's lash, And sharpest p.r.i.c.ks of that mock th.o.r.n.y Crown; The insults, blows, and scorn, That must be meekly borne, These weigh the Son of Man's meek Spirit down.
He sees with vision clear, And shrinks with human fear, The Cross with curse o'erlaid and angry doom; The hours of racking pain He must, nailed there, sustain, While lingering death life's marrow shall consume.
Maker and Lord of all!
Behold Him prostrate fall, And humbly kneel in silent anguish there; Till, with an inward groan, Towards the Heavenly Throne, With earnest pleading, He directs His Prayer.
"Father, to Thee I pray, O take this Cup away!
Thou hast all power to do Thy Will Divine; Remove, if it may be, This Cup away from Me!
Yet, Father, not My Will be done, but Thine."
Thus thrice our suffering Lord, With Prostrate Form implored, That even then that Hour might pa.s.s away; Until from heaven, at length, An angel brought Him strength, And healing balm His troubled Soul to stay.
O well for us, indeed!
He took, as was decreed, And drained the Cup His Heavenly Father gave; And therefore songs of praise We ransomed sinners raise, To Him Who meekly died our souls to save.
Lied fur den Charfreitag. I.
Er ist um unsrer Missethat willen verwundet, Und um unsrer Sunde willen zerschlagen.
Herzliebster Jesu, was hast Du verbrochen, Da.s.s man ein solch scharf Urtheil hat gesprochen?
Was ist die Schuld? in was fur Missethaten Bist Du gerathen?
Du wirst verspeit, geschlagen und verhohnet, Gegeisselt und mit Dornen scharf gekronet, Mit Essig, als man Dich ans Kreuz gehenket, Wirst Du getranket.
Was ist die Ursach aller solcher Plagen?
Ach, meine Sunden haben Dich geschlagen; Ich, ach Herr Jesu! habe diess verschuldet, Was Du erduldet.
Wie wunderbarlich ist doch diese Strafe!
Der gute Hirte leidet fur die Schaafe, Die Schuld bezahlt der Herre, der Gerechte, Fur seine Knechte.
Der Fromme stirbt, der recht und richtig wandelt, Der Bose lebt, der wider Gott misshandelt, Der Mensch verwirkt den Tod, und ist entgangen, Gott wird gefangen.
Ich war von Fuss auf voller Schand und Sunden, Bis zu dem Scheitel war nichts Guts zu finden, Dafur hatt ich dort in der Hollen mussen Ewiglich bussen.
O grosse Lieb, o Lieb ohn alle Ma.s.se, Die Dich gebracht auf diese Marterstra.s.se!
Ich lebte mit der Welt in l.u.s.t und Freuden, Und Du musst leiden.
Ach, grosser Konig, gross zu allen Zeiten, Wie kann ich gnugsam solche Treu ausbreiten?
Kein menschlich Herze mag ihm diess ausdenken, Was Dir zu schenken.
Ich kanns mit meinen Sinnen nicht erreichen, Mit was doch dein Erbarmung zu vergleichen: Wie kann ich Dir denn deine Liebesthaten Im Werk erstatten!
Doch ist noch etwas, das Dir angenehme, Wenn ich des Fleisches Lufte dampf und zahme, Da.s.s sie aufs Neu mein Herze nicht entzunden Mit alten Sunden.
Weil aber diess nicht steht in eignen Kraften, Dem Kreuze die Begierden anzuheften, So gieb mir deinen Geist, Der mich regiere, Zum Guten fuhre.
Alsdann so werd ich deine Huld betrachten, Aus Lieb zu Dir die Welt fur gar nichts achten, Ich werde mich bemuhen, deinen Willen Stets zu erfullen.
Ich werde Dir zu Ehren alles wagen, Kein Kreuz nicht achten, keine Schmach und Plagen, Nichts von Verfolgung, nichts von Todesschmerzen Nehmen zu Herzen.
Diess alles, obs fur schlecht zwar ist zu schatzen, Wirst Du es doch nicht gar bei Seite setzen, In Gnaden wirst Du diess von mir annehmen, Mich nicht beschamen.
Wenn dort, Herr Jesu, wird vor deinem Throne Auf meinem Haupte stehn die Ehrenkrone, Da will ich Dir, wenn alles wird wohlklingen, Lob und Dank singen.
Johann Heermann. 1585-1647.
Hymn for Good Friday. I.
He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities.
_Isaiah_, liii. 5.
What laws, my blessed Saviour, hast Thou broken, That so severe a sentence should be spoken?
How hast Thou 'gainst Thy Father's Will contended, In what offended?
With scourges, blows, and spitting they reviled Thee, They crowned Thy Brow with thorns while King they styled Thee; When faint with pains Thy tortured Body suffered, Then gall they offered.
Say! wherefore thus by woes wast Thou surrounded?
Ah! Lord, for my transgressions Thou wast wounded: G.o.d took the guilt from me, who should have paid it, On Thee He laid it.
How strange and marvellous was this correction!
Falls the good Shepherd in His sheep's protection; The servants' debt behold the Master paying, For them obeying.
The Righteous dies, Who walked with G.o.d true-hearted, The sinner lives, who has from G.o.d departed; By man came death, yet man its setters breaketh, G.o.d it o'ertaketh.
The guilt and shame of sin had whelmed me over, From head to foot no good couldst Thou discover; For this in h.e.l.l should I, with deep lamenting, Be aye repenting.
But oh! the depth of love beyond comparing, That brought Thee down from heaven, our burden bearing!
I taste all peace and joy that life can offer, Whilst Thou must suffer!
Eternal King! in power and love excelling, Fain would my heart and mouth Thy praise be telling, But how can man's weak powers at all come nigh Thee?
