From the epistle. [Philip.3:20-21]

7,7,7,7

Du o schönes Weltgebäude

[121]Johann Franck.1653.

trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855

Let who will in thee rejoice,

O thou fair and wondrous earth!

Ever anguished sorrow's voice

Pierces through thy seeming mirth;

Let thy vain delights be given

Unto them who love not Heaven,

My desire is fixed on Thee,

Jesus, dearest far to me!

Weary souls with toil outworn,

Drooping 'neath the glaring light,

Wish that soon the coming morn

Might be quenched again in night,

That their toils might find a close

In a soft and deep repose;

I but wish to rest in Thee,

Jesus, dearest far to me!

Others dare the treacherous wave,

Hidden rock and shifting wind --

Storm and danger let them brave,

Earthly good or wealth to find;

Faith shall wing my upward flight

Far above yon starry height,

Till I find myself with Thee,

Jesus, dearest Friend to me!

Many a time ere now I said,

Many a time again shall say,

Would to God that I were dead,

Would that in my grave I lay!

Rest were mine, and sweet my lot

Where the body hindereth not,

And the soul can ever be,

Jesus, dearest Lord, with Thee!

Come, O Death, thou twin of Sleep,

Lead me hence, -- I pray thee come,

Loose my rudder, through the deep

Guide my vessel safely home.

Thy approach who will may fly,

'Twere a joy to me to die,

Death but opes the gates to Thee,

Jesus, dearest Friend to me!

Would that I today might leave

This my earthly prison here,

And my crown of joy receive

Waiting me in yon bright sphere!

In that home of joy, where dwell

Hosts of angels, would I tell

How the Godhead shines in Thee,

Jesus, dearest Lord to me!

But not yet the gates of gold

I may see nor enter in,

Nor the heavenly fields behold,

But must sit and mourning spin

Life's dark thread on earth below;

Let my thoughts then hourly go

Whither I myself would be,

Jesus, dearest Lord, with Thee!