Oh play another song for me

Old man, honest and true,

Try and see if one sweet chord

Can move my heart anew.

The sick child prays, the old man plays

His song had never been so tender,

Nor, like now, so magical:

It filled him, too, with wonder.

There trills a chord so heavenly

It moves the old man’s heart.

The organ stops, the dear child’s soul

This earthly vale departs.

Who shall free us fully and for ever

From the body of this death, bent beneath the yoke?

How long must I still combat my nature

Ere this heart from sinful service be revoked?

That God my God would be, I pledged my troth

With singleness of mind Him would I follow

But I was tried – forgotten was my oath

I was tempted – and my foot did falter.

No, with my own strength I shan’t learn to conquer

Soul, confess your weakness, self-deceit, take flight!

A child’s heart must be shaped by the Father

The Master be the pupil’s guiding light.

Well then, Father, let your love be my teacher

My Master, take my hand, and show your standard

I stood alone – and fell: now we’re together

I succumbed, but win behind your vanguard.

Only now do I feel strong, when with weakness stricken

Powerless in myself, but in the Lord, almighty!

Sin may tempt, the evil passions quicken,

Thou castest down all foes, O God in me!

I am grieved, but it’s a godly sadness

A night-cloud – tinged all round with dawn’s bright crimson

I weep, Lord, though my heart is full of gladness

I bow my head – but, Father, in thy bosom.

I know in Whom my faith is founded,

Though day and night change constantly,

I know the rock on which I’m grounded,

My Saviour waits, unfailingly.

When once life’s evening overcomes me,

Worn down by ills and strife always,

For every day Thou hast allowed me,

I’ll bring Thee higher, purer praise.3

 2r:3

Homesickness flowed through

The heart of a pilgrim,

Seeking the heavenly

Jerusalem.

City of pleasures,

Of joy everlasting,

Which once God’s angel

Had promised to him.

Crystal-clear rivers,

May your placid waters

Show the reflection

Of this lovely sight.

Glittering mountains,

From far you behold it,

The place that my soul

Doth ease and invite.

I hear there the chiming

Of bells as though ringing.

The sunset suffuses

The woods with its glow.

If I only had wings

Like a dove I should glide,

And fly fast through the sky,

To you, city, I’d go.

Sanctified wistfulness

Softens my spirit,

And vehement yearnings

Rise up from my heart.

With weariness sinking

On his bed of flowers,

He gazes with longing

On those distant parts.

Wide, oh too wide

Is the distance between us.

Long is the journey,

I am overwhelmed.

Dreams of enchantment

Unveil the delightfulness,

Give me the joys

Of the heavenly realm.

Looming vault

Now opens: an Angel,

Shining like silver,

Doth kindly descend,

Speaking thus: Would God

Deny you the power?

He who before made you

Yearn without end?

Silent delights and the

sweetest illusions,

May weaklings derive from them

True nourishment.

Perpetual striving

Is manly and noble.

It leads to the target,

Makes real the pretence.

Sweet as the fragrance

Of flowers he vanishes,

Up springs the pilgrim

Made strong by his words.

He wanders down difficult

Paths with great courage

Till, dazzling, the heavenly gates

Do emerge.

It opens its wings

Like the arms of the Mother,

Who longs for her son

And his advent attends.

Jubilant singing

Greets the ears of the weary,

As bravely his journey

Is brought to an end.

Pious parents are a blessing,

Child, you can’t thank them enough!

They pave for you the straight and narrow

Path, which many find so tough.5

Oh the skylark ever chirping

On thy nimble wings now circling

Flying higher in the sky.

Singing hymns let us unite

Rising in the glorious light

Freed from fetters now am I.6

 2v:4

The hills lie ayonder

All misty and grey

The valleys are sunken

In nocturnal shade.

All round me is slumber

Not one sign of woe

Is brought to disturb me

By breezes that blow.

I’ve ever looked after

Each one’s happiness

I’ve drunk of the cup

In both need and distress.

The night time has fallen

The firmament glows

I long for the peace that

Most pleases my soul.

O glimmering starlight

The Writ from on high

With love you attract me

And capture my eye.

Rapturous music

Of heavenly choirs

Scarce heard, yet caressing

And soothing my ears.

My hair’s turning grey now

My ardour doth pall

My armour now hangs

Full of rust on the wall.

Justly I’ve spoken,

And justice I’ve done

Oh when will my hour

Of peace finally come?

The peace which my spirit

Doth crave with all might

Abide now no longer

O most blessed night!

May I gaze upon stars

Which more wonderfully glow,

And be able to hear sounds

Much louder than now.

’Twas a cheerless winter morn

Of sunlight not a glimmer.

At intervals a death-knell rang

And pierced the misty shimmer.

How dull it sounded, that one bell,

Given a brief ringing,

But soon one heard a hoarse voice raised

To sing a song of mourning.

It was a destitute old man

They carried to his grave.

His burial was as grim and drab

As once had been his days.

Now he’s in God’s glorious light,

The choirs of angels sing.

Rejoicing now, their fulsome tones

Throughout the world shall ring.

Welcome sight of larks ascending,

Skyward paths forever wending,

Some alight beside the stream,

Others frolic in the tree.

To sing God’s praise is the delight

Of one who from my heart takes flight!

Resting place of our departed,

Don the festive dress of spring.

Hide thyself behind rose-petals,

Green grass be thy covering.

Close the gate and all thorn-hedges,

Open up thy tombs for me.

Very well then, I am ready,

Even though this vernal splendour

Urges me to labour further.

Clouds during the day so dark

In the western sky do hover,

Glowing with a purple shimmer

Pierced by sunsets’ golden light.

In like way, foretells my heart,

Soon or late, when I, death-stricken,

Leave this life, my soul will quicken

And what now is dark make bright.