IN GRATEFUL SONGS.

Wie lang, O Herr, wie lange soll
8,7,8,7,8,8,7
How long, Lord, in forgetfulness
And darkness wilt Thou leave me?
How long will sorrow on me press
And deep heart-anguish grieve me?
Wilt Thou Thy face, Lord, utterly
Turn from me? wilt ne'er look on me
In grace and in compassion?
How long shall I, thy stricken child,
Bereft of soul-rest languish?
How long shall storm and wind so wild,
Fill heart with fear and anguish?
How long shall my proud enemy,
Who only meaneth ill to me,
Exult o'er me in triumph?
Ah! look on me, my Shield and Lord!
Down from Thy holy heaven,
And hear now my complaining word,
My pray'r from heart grief-riven.
Give to mine eyes, Lord, pow'r and might,
And do not let death's gloomy night
So speedily o'ertake me.
For then, Lord, ev'ry enemy
Would never cease to glory,
And were I prostrate utterly,
Would ever triumph o'er me.

"There lieth he," they'd cry in joy,

"Who caus'd us evermore annoy,
He's prostrate and ne'er riseth."
I know them, and I know fall well
The wickedness they're planning,
Their hearts with ev'ry evil swell,
No good them e'er restraining.
But Thou, the faithful One, Lord, art,
And those who choose Thee for their part,
Thou nevermore forsakest.
My soul doth calmly trust in Thee,
Thou true to me remainest,
Of malice and of subtlety
The course, with pow'r restrainest.
This makes my heart with joy o'erflow,
That willingly dost Thou bestow
Salvation on the trusting.
O Lord! for aye I'll trust in Thee,
Thou'rt my sole joy for ever;
Thou doest well, protectest me,
From sorrow dost deliver.
And therefore I my whole life long,
Will sing Thee oft a gladsome song
Of praise and of thanksgiving.
Nun danket all und bringet Ehr
8,6,8,6
In grateful songs your voices raise,
All people here below,
To Him whom angels ever praise,
In heav'n His glory show.
With gladsome songs now fill the air
To God our chiefest Joy,
Who worketh wonders ev'rywhere,
Whose hands great things employ;
Who from the womb to latest years
Upholds the life He gave;
Who when no help from man appears
Himself appears to save;
Who though our way His heart oft grieves,
Maintains a gracious mood,
Remits the pains, the sin forgives,
And doth us nought but good.
Oh, may He give a joyous heart,
The mind from sorrow keep,
And cast all care, fear, grief, and smart
Into the ocean deep.
And may His blessing ever rest
On Israel's favour'd head;
May all we do by Him be bless'd,
May His salvation spread.
May love and goodness toward us flow,
In bounteous streams each day,
And every anxious care we know,
Be chas'd by Him away.
As long as beats each throbbing heart,
Our Saviour may He be,
Our portion when from earth we part,
To all eternity.
When sinks the heart, when strength decays,
By Him our eyes be press'd,
Then may we see His open face,
In everlasting rest.