Paul Gerhardt's Spiritual Songs Part 20

I am G.o.d's, and mine is G.o.d, Who from Him can part me?

Tho' the cross with heavy load Press on me and smart me.

Let it press--the hand of love Hath the cross laid on me, He the burden will remove, When the good is done me.

Children whom aright to guide Parents would endeavour, Must the father often chide, Or they'd prosper never.

If I'm then a child of grace, Should I shun G.o.d ever, When He from sin's devious ways, Seeks me to deliver?

Gracious are the thoughts of G.o.d, In the pain He's sending, Who here weeps beneath the rod, Reaps not woe unending, But eternal joy shall taste In Christ's garden dwelling, That he shall be there at last, Now a.s.surance feeling.

Often G.o.d's own children here Sow in tears and sadness, But at length the long'd-for year Comes of joy and gladness; For the reaping time appears, All their labours after, When are turn'd their grief and tears Into joy and laughter.

Christian heart! courageously All the griefs that pain thee Cast behind thee joyfully, More and more sustain thee Let sweet consolation's light; Praise and honour give you To the G.o.d of love and might, He'll help and relieve you.

BE THOU CONTENTED.

Be thou contented! aye relying On thy G.o.d, who life is giving, For He hath joys soul satisfying, Wanting Him--in vain thy striving.

Thy Spring is He, Thy Sun that ever Rejoiceth thee, And setteth never.

Be thou contented!

He lightens, comforts, and supports thee, True in heart, by guile unstained; When He is near nought ever hurts thee, E'en when smitten sore and pained.

Cross, need, and woe He soon averteth, O'er the last foe His pow'r a.s.serteth.

Be thou contented!

How it fareth with thee and others, Truly none from Him concealeth, He ever from on high discovers Burden'd hearts, and for them feeleth.

Of weeping eyes The tears He counteth, The pile of sighs 'Fore Him high mounteth.

Be thou contented!

When not another on earth liveth, To whom safe thou may'st confide thee, He'll faithful prove, who ne'er deceiveth, And to happiest end will guide thee.

The secret grief Thy soul that boweth, And when relief To give, He knoweth.

Be thou contented!

The sighing of thy soul He ever, And thy heart's deep plaint is hearing; What to another thou wouldst never Tell, reveal to G.o.d, ne'er fearing.

He is not far, But standeth near thee, Who poor men's pray'r Marks, soon will hear thee.

Be thou contented!

To G.o.d cleave, He'll salvation show thee, Let not anguish then depress thee; Although devouring floods o'erflow thee, Rise above it, He will bless thee.

When 'neath the load Thy back low bendeth, Thy Prince and G.o.d Soon succour sendeth.

Be thou contented!

Why for thy life should care so grieve thee, How to nourish and sustain it?

Thy G.o.d, who ever life doth give thee, Will provide for and maintain it.

He hath a hand With gifts o'erflowing, On sea and land For aye bestowing.

Be thou contented!

Who for the forest songsters careth, To their daily portion leads them, For sheep and ox enough prepareth, Slakes their thirst, with plenty feeds them; He'll care for thee, Thee, lone one! filling, So bounteously Thy hunger stilling.

Be thou contented!

Say not, the means nowhere appeareth, Where I seek, my effort faileth; G.o.d this high name of honour beareth, Helper, when no help availeth!

When thou and I Fail to discover Him, speedily He'll us recover.

Be thou contented!

Although away thy help is staying, He will not for ever leave thee; Tho' anxious makes thee His delaying, 'Tis for thy greater good, believe me.

What on the way To come ne'er hasteth, Doth longer stay, And sweeter tasteth.

Be thou contented!

Though 'gainst thee hosts of foes are scheming, Let not all their lies affright thee; Still let them rage against thee, deeming G.o.d will hear it and will right thee.

Doth G.o.d support Thee and thine ever?

The foe can hurt Or ruin never.

Be thou contented!

To each his share of ill is given, Would he only see and know it; No course on earth so fair and even, That no trouble lurks below it.

Who can declare, "My house was ever All free from care, And troubled never?"

Be thou contented!

So must it be, in vain our grieving, All men here must suffer ever, Whate'er upon the earth is living, Evil days avoideth never.

Affliction's blow Doth oft depress us, And lays us low, And death then frees us.

Be thou contented!

A day will dawn of rest and blessing, When our G.o.d will come and save us From the vile body's bands depressing, And the evils that enslave us.

Death soon will come, From woe deliver, And take us home Then all together.

Be thou contented!

He'll bring us to the hosts in glory, To the chosen and true-hearted, Who when they clos'd this life's sad story, Hence in peace to joy departed, And on the sh.o.r.e, The ever-vernal, Hear evermore, The voice eternal.

Be thou contented!

A SONG OF CHRISTIAN CONSOLATION AND JOY.

Is G.o.d for me? t'oppose me A thousand may uprise; When I to pray'r arouse me, He'll chase mine enemies.

And doth the Head befriend me, Am I belov'd by G.o.d?

Let foes then rise to rend me, The wild opposing brood!

I know--from faith none moves me, I boast--nor feel I shame, That G.o.d as father loves me, In Him, a friend I claim.

Whene'er the tempest rageth, At my right hand is He, Its violence a.s.suageth, And peace restores to me.

My faith securely buildeth On Jesus, and His blood; This, and this only, yieldeth The true eternal good.

The life that my soul liveth, Finds nothing on the earth; What Christ the Saviour giveth Of all our love is worth.

My Jesus is my Glory, My Splendour, and clear Light, Liv'd He not in and for me, Before G.o.d's eye so bright, And 'fore His pure throne never Could I a moment stay, Must quickly flee for ever, As wax 'fore fire away.

My Jesus death subdueth, My sin remitteth quite, He washeth aad reneweth, The crimson maketh white.

I joy in Him, can ever A hero's courage feel, And judgment fear dare never, As though uncleansed still.

Nought, nought, can e'er condemn me, My courage take away; h.e.l.l's flames can ne'er o'erwhelm me, For me they're quench'd for aye.

No sentence e'er can move me, No evil e'er deject, My Saviour who doth love me, Doth with His wings protect.