MARGRAVE GEORGE OF BRANDENBURG'S SONG.
Genad' mir Herr, Ewiger Gott
Grant me, Eternal God, such grace
That no distress
May cause me e'er to flee from Thee;
Let no false counsel me mislead,
The heavenly Bread,
My soul's true food, be ne'er withdrawn from me;
But late and early let me hear
Thy teachings clear,
From teachers taught by Thee the faith;
And yield me still up to Thy will,
Until I yield my soul to Thee in death.
Teach me to make true order, Lord,
That so Thy Word
The common man may understand;
Convert my subjects to obey
Thy gentle sway;
Increase the Christian host within my land.
But stirreth now full many a sect
That doth neglect
True Christian faith and foster strife,
Save us from such, nor let them touch
Thy Word, our guide alike in death and life.
So grant us peace in these our days,
Not strife that slays
The brother's love Thou dost commend;
Thou mak'st the welfare of my State,
Envy and hate
Keep far from me and all, till life shall end;
Grant me Thy Spirit like a lamb,
Thou know'st I am
But flesh and blood, and apt to take offence;
That mind of Thine be also mine,
For this I pray with all my diligence.
City and lands in every part,
With earnest heart
To Thee who gav'st them I commend;
They are a charge that I must bear
With faithful care;
Thou with good counsellors my throne befriend,
That all may see true justice done
Clear as the sun,
To rich and poor impartially;
Not fraud and might, reason and right
Rule here, -- for this, for this, I cry to Thee!
And let the nobles of our land
Well understand
The faith, and find the one true Ground,
In all things earnest to fulfil
Thy holy will;
By all who seek Thee be Thou surely found;
So every class within the State,
Or small or great,
Or young or old, may praise Thy name most high,
Give honour due and try to do
What Thou wouldst have, nor ever from Thee fly.
Nor be my own needs, Lord, forgot,
Forsake me not,
But lead me ever in Thy way;
Wisdom and judgment breathe in me,
And ever be
Close at my side whate'er I do to-day;
In my affairs act Thou, nor let the foe,
Who well I know
With craft and wrath is working hour by hour,
Me e'er deceive, or e'er bereave
Of Thy dear Presence that benumbs his power.
For burnt not once that heart of Thine
With love divine
Thinking on all our pain and loss?
'Twas no light thing Thou didst for us,
Accepting thus
So willingly the anguish of the cross,
Bearing the woes of death and sin
For us to win
The life the Father had decreed
For sinful man, e'er time began: --
Ah! let me reap the fruit of Thy sweet deed!
Lord, I have chosen the true gate,
Narrow and strait,
And yet my footsteps often stray;
Bid me of Thy sore sorrow think,
Nor dare to shrink
Whate'er befall, but still press on Thy way.
Give me true faith to persevere
Through doubt and fear
Till soul and body part in death;
Then let the foe strike no last blow,
Grant me to yield to Thee in peace my breath.
O may a burgher's right in heaven
To us be given
Of Thy free grace, we cannot purchase it.
And listen yet to one more prayer,
Spare Thou, O spare
My brother's soul, which I to Thee commit;
Thou know'st 'tis not in man to save,
Wherefore I crave
Mercy and grace for all my brother men;
Thou, if Thou wilt, canst pardon guilt;
Pardon and peace grant Thou, dear Lord. Amen.
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