Scripture Verse

Having disarmed the powers and authorities, He made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross. Colossians 2:15

Introduction

portrait
Paul Gerhardt
1607–1676

Words: Paul Ger­hardt, 1648 (Auf, auf, mein Herz, mit Freud­en). Trans­lat­ed from Ger­man to Eng­lish by John Kel­ly, Paul Ger­hardt’s Spi­ri­tu­al Songs (Lon­don: Al­ex­an­der Stra­han, 1867), pages 71–74, alt.

Music: Auf, auf, mein Herz Jo­hann Crü­ger, 1648 (🔊 pdf nwc).

portrait
Johann Crüger
1598–1662

Lyrics

Awake, my heart, with gladness,
See what today is done!
Now, after gloom and sadness,
Comes forth the glorious Sun!
My Savior there was laid
Where our bed must be made
When to the realms of light
Our spirit wings its flight.

The foe in triumph shouted
When Christ lay in the tomb;
But, lo, he now is routed,
His boast is turned to gloom.
For Christ again is free;
In glorious victory
He who is strong to save
Has triumphed o’er the grave.

This is a sight that gladdens;
What peace it doth impart!
Now nothing ever saddens
The joy within my heart.
No gloom shall ever shake,
No foe shall ever take,
The hope which God’s own Son
In love for me hath won.

Now hell, its prince, the devil
Of all their powers are shorn;
Now I am safe from evil,
And sin I laugh to scorn.
Grim Death with all his might
Cannot my soul affright;
He is a powerless form,
Howe’er he rave and storm.

The world against me rageth
Its fury I disdain;
Though bitter war it wageth
Its work is all in vain.
My heart from care is free,
No trouble troubles me.
Misfortune now is play
And night is bright as day.

Now I will cling forever
To Christ, my Savior true;
My Lord will leave me never,
Whate’er He passeth through.
He rends death’s iron chain,
He breaks through sin and pain,
He shatters hell’s dark thrall,
I follow Him through all.

To halls of heavenly splendor
With Him I penetrate;
And trouble ne’er may hinder
Nor make me hesitate.
Let tempests rage at will,
My Savior shields me still;
He grants abiding peace
And bids all tumult cease.

He brings me to the portal
That leads to bliss untold,
Whereon this rhyme immortal
Is found in script of gold:
Who there My cross hath shared
Finds here a crown prepared;
Who there with Me hath died
Shall here be glorified.

illustration
The Resurrection
Matthias Grünewald
1470–1528

Kelly’s original translation:

Up! up! my heart with gladness,
See what to-day is done!
How after gloom and sadness
Comes forth the glorious Sun!
My Saviour there was laid
Where our bed must be made,
When to the realms of light
Our spirit wings its flight.

They in the grave did sink Him,
The foe held jubilee;
Before he can bethink him,
Lo! Christ again is free.
And victory He cries,
And waving tow’rds the skies
His banner, while the field
Is by the Hero held!

Upon the grave is standing
The Hero looking round;
The foe, no more withstanding,
His weapons on the ground
Throws down, his hellish pow’r
To Christ must he give o’er,
And to the Victor’s bands
Must yield his feet and hands.

A sight it is to gladden
And fill the heart with glee,
No more affright or sadden
Shall aught, or take from me
My trust or fortitude,
Or any precious good
The Saviour bought for me
In sov’reign love and free.

Hell and its bands can never
Hurt e’en a single hair,
Sin can I mock at ever,
Safe am I everywhere.
The mighty pow’r of death
Is my regard beneath;
It is a pow’rless form,
Howe’er it rage and storm.

The world my laughter ever
Moves, though it rage amain,
It rages, but can never
Do ill, its work is vain.
No trouble troubles me,
My heart from care is free,
Misfortune is my prize,
The night my fair sunrise.

I cleave, and cleave shall ever,
To Christ, a member true,
Shall part from my Head never,
Whate’er He passes through;
He treads the world beneath
His feet, and conquers death
And hell, and breaks sin’s thrall;
I’m with Him through it all.

To halls of heav’nly splendor
With Him I penetrate;
And trouble ne’er may hinder
Nor make me hesitate.
What will, may angry be,
My Head accepteth me,
My Saviour is my Shield,
By Him all rage is still’d.

He to the gate me leadeth
Of yon fair realms of light,
Whereon the pilgrim readeth,
In golden letter bright:
Who’s there despised with me,
Here with me crown’d shall be;
Who there with me shall die,
Here’s raised with me on high!