O Lord! I sing with mouth and heart,
Joy of my soul! to Thee
To earth Thy knowledge I impart,
As it is known to me.
Thou art the Fount of grace, I know,
And Spring aye fall and free,
Whence saving health and goodness flow
Each day so bounteously.
What have we here or what are we,
Of good what can earth give,
That we do not alone from Thee,
Our Father, aye receive?
The tent-like firmament who builds,
Who spreads th’ expanse of blue,
Who sends to fertilize our fields
Refreshing rain and dew?
Who warmeth us in cold and frost,
Who shields us from the wind,
Who orders it that wine and must
We in their season find?
Who is it life and health bestows,
Who keeps us with His hand
In golden peace, wards off war’s woes,
From our dear native land?
The work is Thine, my God! my Lord!
And Thine must ever be;
Before our door Thou keepest guard,
In rest we’re kept by Thee.
Thou feedest us from year to year,
And constant dost abide;
When danger fills our hearts with fear,
With help art at our side.
With patience dost Thou ever chide,
Nor long Thine anger keep,
But castest all our sins aside
Into the ocean deep.
Whene’er our burden’d hearts we raise
To Thee, Thou’rt soon appeas’d;
The help Thou send’st shows forth Thy praise,
And our sad hearts are eas’d.
Thou mark’st how oft Thy people weep
And what their sorrows are,
Their tears dost in Thy bottle keep,
However small they are.
Our deepest needs dost Thou supply,
Thou giv’st what lasts for aye,
Thou lead’st us to our home on high,
When hence we pass away.
Awake! my heart, awake and sing,
And joyous be thy mood,
Thy God who maketh everything
Is, and abides thy good—
Thy treasure and inheritance!
Thy glory and delight!
Thy saving health and sure defence!
He keeps and guides thee right.
Why do thy cares both night and day
Grieve thee so bitterly?
Upon thy God thy burden lay,
Who gave thy life to thee.
Hath He not all the weary way
From youth till now thee led,
Oft chas’d misfortune’s clouds away
That gather’d o’er thy head?
In all His rule no oversight
Can happen, no mistakes;
Whate’er He does or leaves is right,
A happy issue takes.
Let Him work who doth all things well,
Nor with Him interfere,
And so thou shalt in glory dwell,
And peace enjoy while here.
Paul Gerhardt’s Spiritual Songs, 1867