Paul Gerhardt's Spiritual Songs - novelonlinefull.com
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UP! UP! MY HEART WITH GLADNESS.
Up! up! my heart with gladness, See what to-day is done!
How after gloom and sadness Comes forth the glorious Sun!
My Saviour there was laid Where our bed must be made, When to the realms of light Our spirit wings its flight.
They in the grave did sink Him, The foe held jubilee; Before he can bethink him, Lo! Christ again is free.
And victory He cries, And waving tow'rds the skies His banner, while the field Is by the Hero held!
Upon the grave is standing The Hero looking round; The foe, no more withstanding, His weapons on the ground Throws down, his h.e.l.lish pow'r To Christ must he give o'er, And to the Victor's bands Must yield his feet and hands.
A sight it is to gladden And fill the heart with glee, No more affright or sadden Shall aught, or take from me My trust or fort.i.tude, Or any precious good The Saviour bought for me In sov'reign love and free.
h.e.l.l and its bands can never Hurt e'en a single hair, Sin can I mock at ever, Safe am I everywhere.
The mighty pow'r of death Is my regard beneath; It is a pow'rless form, Howe'er it rage and storm.
The world my laughter ever Moves, though it rage amain, It rages, but can never Do ill, its work is vain.
No trouble troubles me, My heart from care is free, Misfortune is my prize, The night my fair sunrise.
I cleave, and cleave shall ever, To Christ, a member true, Shall part from my Head never, Whate'er He pa.s.ses through; He treads the world beneath His feet, and conquers death And h.e.l.l, and breaks sin's thrall; I'm with Him through it all.
To halls of heav'nly splendour With Him I penetrate; And trouble ne'er may hinder Nor make me hesitate.
What will, may angry be, My Head accepteth me, My Saviour is my Shield, By Him all rage is still'd.
He to the gates me leadeth Of yon fair realms of light, Whereon the pilgrim readeth, In golden letters bright: "Who's there despised with me, Here with me crown'd shall be; Who there with me shall die, Here's raised with me on high!"
BE JOYFUL ALL, BOTH FAR AND NEAR.
Be joyful all, both far and near, Who lost were and dejected: To-day the Lord of glory here, Whom G.o.d Himself elected As our Redeemer, who His blood Upon the cross shed for our good, Hath from the grave arisen.
How well succeeded hath thy might, Thou foe of life so ruthless!
To kill the Lord of life and light; Thine arrow through Him scathless Hath pa.s.s'd, thou base injurious foe!
Thou thought'st when thou hadst laid Him low, He'd lie in dust for ever.
No, no! on high His head is borne, His mighty pow'r asunder Thy gates hath burst, thy bands hath torn, Thyself hath trodden under His feet; who doth in Him confide Thy pow'r and claims may now deride And say, "Thy sting, where is it?"
Thy pow'r is gone, 'tis broken quite, And it can hurt him never Who to this Prince with all his might With heart and soul cleaves ever, Who speaks with joy, "I live, and ye Shall also live for aye with me, For I this life have purchas'd.
"The reign and pow'r of death are o'er, He never need affright you; I am his Lord, the Prince of pow'r, And this may well delight you; And as your risen Head I live: So ye, if ye on me believe, Shall be my members ever.
"Of h.e.l.l have I the overthrow Accomplish'd, none now needeth To fear the pains of endless woe, Who Me and My word heedeth; He's freed from Satan's grievous yoke, Whose head I bruis'd, whose might I broke, And he can never harm him."
Now prais'd be G.o.d, who vict'ry hath To us through Jesus given, Who peace for war, and life for death, With entrance into heaven, Hath purchas'd, who death, sin, and woe, World, devil, what our overthrow Would seek, for aye hath vanquish'd.
Whitsuntide.
O FATHER! SEND THY SPIRIT DOWN.
O Father! send Thy Spirit down, Whom we are bidden by Thy Son To seek, from Thy high heaven; We ask as He taught us to pray, And let us ne'er unheard away From 'fore Thy throne be driven.
No mortal man upon the earth Is of this gift so n.o.ble worth, No merit we've to gain it; Here only grace availeth aught, That Jesus Christ for us hath bought, His tears and death obtain it.
O Father! much it grieves Thy mind Us in such woful plight to find, As Adam's fall hath brought us; The evil spirit's pow'r, this fall Hath brought on him, and on us all, But Christ to save hath sought us.
To our salvation, Lord, we cleave, That we are Thine in Christ believe, From Him nought shall us sever; And through His death and precious blood, Our mansions fair, and highest good, We look for, doubting never.
This is a work of grace indeed, The Holy Spirit's strength we need, Our pow'r is unavailing; Our faith and our sincerity Would soon, O Lord! in ashes lie, Were not Thy help unfailing.
Of faith Thy Spirit keeps the light, Though all the world against us fight, And storm with every weapon.
Although the prince of this world too, May take the field to lay us low, No ill through him can happen.
The Spirit's is the winning side, And where He helps, the battle's tide a.s.suredly abateth.
What's Satan's might and majesty?
It falleth when His standard high The Spirit elevateth.
The chains of h.e.l.l He rends in twain, Consoles and frees the heart again From everything that grieveth; And when misfortunes o'er us low'r He shields us better in their hour, Than ever heart conceiveth.
The bitter cross He maketh sweet, In gloom His light our eyes doth greet, Care of His sheep He taketh, Holds over us the shield, and when Night falls upon His flock, He then To rest in peace us maketh.
The Spirit G.o.d gives from above Directeth all who truly love In ways of safety ever; He guides our goings every day, From paths of bliss to turn away Our feet permits us never.
He maketh fit, and furnishes With needed gifts for service those Who here G.o.d's house are rearing, Adorns their minds and mouths and hearts, And light to them for us imparts, What's dark to us thus clearing.
Our hearts He opens secretly When they His word so faithfully As precious seed are sowing; He giveth pow'r to it, where'er It takes root, tending it with care, And waters it when growing.
He teacheth us the fear of G.o.d, Loves purity, makes His abode The soul that sin refuseth; Who contrite are, virtue revere, Repent, and turn to Him in fear And love, He ever chooseth.
He's true, and true doth aye abide, In death's dark hour He's at our side, When all from us recedeth; He sootheth our last agony, Up to the halls of bliss on high In joy and trust He leadeth.
Oh! happy are the souls and bless'd, Who while on earth permit this Guest To make in them His dwelling; Who now receive Him joyfully, He'll take up to G.o.d's house on high, Their souls with rapture filling.
Now, Father, who all good dost give, Our pray'r hear, may we all receive From Thee this priceless blessing; Thy Spirit give, that here He may Rule us, and there in endless day Our souls be aye refreshing.
Repentance.
CONSOLATION FOR PENITENCE.