Scripture Verse

I will sing of Thy power; yea, I will sing aloud of Thy mercy in the morning. Psalm 59:16


Paul Gerhardt (1607–1676)

Words: Paul Ger­hardt, in the third set of Jo­hann Eb­el­ing’s Pauli Ger­hardi Geist­liche An­dach­ten, 1666 (Die güldne Sonne voll Freud und Wonne). Trans­lat­ed from Ger­man to Eng­lish by John Kel­ly, Paul Ger­hardt’s Spi­ri­tu­al Songs (Lon­don: Al­ex­an­der Stra­han, 1867), pag­es 270–76, alt. The trans­la­tion starts with verse 4 of Ger­hard’s text, Ab­end und Mor­gen.

Music: Die güld­ne Son­ne Jo­hann G. Eb­el­ing (1637–1676) (🔊 pdf nwc).

If you know where to get a good pic­ture of Kel­ly or Ebe­ling (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),


The gold­en morn­ing, joy her adorn­ing,
With splen­dor near us, draw­eth to cheer us
With heart-re­fresh­ing and beau­ti­ful light.
My head and mem­bers lay wrapt all in slum­bers,
But now awak­ing, and sleep from me shak­ing,
Heaven’s blest sun­shine doth glad­den my sight.

Mine eye be­hold­eth what God up­hold­eth,
Made for His glo­ry, to tell the sto­ry
To us of pow­er and wis­dom so great;
And where the Fa­ther the faith­ful shall ga­ther
In peace, when­ev­er earth’s ties they shall sev­er
And leave this mor­tal and per­ish­ing state.

Come ye with sing­ing, to God be bring­ing
Goods and each bless­ing—all we’re pos­ses­sing—
All be to God as an of­fer­ing brought.
Hearts with love glow­ing, with prais­es o’er­flow­ing,
Thanksgiving voic­es, in these God re­joic­es,
All oth­er of­fer­ings with­out them are naught.

To morn and ev­en His thoughts are giv­en,
Increase He giv­eth, sor­row re­liev­eth,
These are the works that He do­eth alone.
When we are sleep­ing, watch is He aye keep­ing,
When we’re awak­ing, care still of us tak­ing,
He makes the light of His grace to shine down.

My thoughts I’ve rais­èd to Thee who art prais­èd
For aye in Hea­ven! Suc­cess be giv­en,
May my en­dea­vors all un­hin­dered be!
From ev­ery ev­il and work of the dev­il,
From mal­ice ev­er, Oh do Thou de­liv­er!
In all Thy pre­cepts es­tab­lish Thou me!

May it de­light me, may no pain grieve me
When ov­er­flows the cup that my bro­ther
Or neigh­bor hath, with Thy bless­ings so free.
Covetous burn­ing and un­chris­tian yearn­ing
For ill pos­ses­sions, blot out such trans­gres­sions,
Cast them, O Fa­ther! all in­to the sea!

The life we’re liv­ing, what is it giv­ing?
Ere any think­eth, to ground it sink­eth,
Soon as the breath of the grave on it blow.
All things to­ge­ther dread ruin must shiv­er,
The earth and hea­ven they must per­ish even,
Wrapt in the flames that shall ar­dent­ly glow!

All—all de­cay­eth, but God still stay­eth,
His thoughts they wa­ver a mo­ment ne­ver,
His word and will both eter­nal en­dure.
His grace and favor un­in­jured are ev­er,
Deadly wounds heal­ing, the heart with peace fill­ing,
Health here and yon­der to us they en­sure.

My God, for ev­er do Thou de­liv­er!
Shield me, and cov­er my debts all over,
In grace, Thine eyes from my sins turn away.
Govern and guide me, be ever be­side me,
As it is pleas­ing to Thee! am I plac­ing
All in Thy hand and dis­pos­al for aye.

Wilt Thou give ev­er to me what­ev­er
My life is need­ing? May I be heed­ing
Ever the faith­ful word spok­en by Thee.
God is the high­est, the great­est, the nigh­est,
Gracious is ev­er, is change­able ne­ver,
Of all our trea­sures the nob­lest is He.

Wilt Thou then grieve me, gall to drink give me?
Must I be pass­ing through cares ha­rass­ing?
Do then as seem­eth it good un­to Thee.
Whate’er sup­port­eth, is use­ful or hurt­eth,
Thou know­est ev­er, and chast­en­est ne­ver
Too much, in case we o’er­bur­dened should be.

Trial God send­eth, speed­ily end­eth
Storm on the ocean, wind’s mad com­mo­tion,
Lightens the sun­shine so glad­some and bright.
Fulness of plea­sure, and glo­ri­ous lei­sure,
Will then be giv­en to me in yon Hea­ven
Whither my thoughts aye to turn take de­light.