Die goldene Sonne

[134]Paul Gerhardt.

trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855

The golden sunbeams with their joyous gleams,

Are kindling o'er earth, her life and mirth,

Shedding forth lovely and heart-cheering light;

Through the dark hours' chill I lay silent and still,

But risen at length to gladness and strength,

I gaze on the heavens all glowing and bright.

Mine eyes now behold Thy works, that of old

And ever are telling to all men here dwelling,

How great is Thy glory, how wondrous Thy power;

They tell of the home where the faithful shall come,

Who depart to that peace that can change not or cease,

From earth where all passeth as passes the hour.

O come let us raise our voices, and praise

The Maker of all, at His feet let us fall,

Offering to Him again all He hath given,

The best that is ours, our hearts and our powers;

Glad songs that we sing Him, thanks that we bring Him,

These are the incense most grateful to Heaven.

Evening and morning thus ever he cares for us,

Blessing, renewing, warding off ruin,

These are His works, thus His goodness we prove;

When we are sleeping, watch He is keeping,

Whe we arise, He gladdens our eyes

With the sunshine of mercy, the glow of His love.

All passeth away, but God liveth aye,

And changeth in nought; eternal His thought,

His Word and His Will are steadfast and sure;

Never His grace nor His mercy decays,

It heals the sad heart from its deadliest smart,

Giving it life that shall ever endure.

God, Thou my crown! forgiving look down,

And hide from Thy face through Thy pitying grace,

All my transgressions against Thy command;

Henceforth oh rule me, guide me and school me,

As Thou seest fit; my ways I commit

All to Thy pleasure, Thy merciful hand.

Crosses and sorrow may end with the morrow,

Stormiest seas shall sink into peace,

The wild winds are hushed, and the sunshine returns;

So fulness of rest, and the calm of the blest,

Are waiting me there, in that garden most fair,

That home for which daily my spirit here yearns.