Son, first-born, at home abiding!
All without is cold and bare:
Hide me from the tempest’s chiding
Warm beside the Father’s chair.
I am homesick, Lord of splendour!
Twilight fills my soul with fright:
Let thy countenance befriend her,
Shining from the halls of light.
I am homesick, loving Father!
Long years hath the pain increased:
Soon, oh soon! thy children gather
To the endless marriage-feast.
I am so weary with the burden old
Of foregone faults, and power of custom base,
That much I fear to perish from the ways,
And fall into my enemy’s grim fold.
True, a high friend, to free me, not with gold,
Came, of ineffable and utmost grace—
Then straightway vanished from before my face,
So that in vain I strive him to behold.
But his voice yet comes echoing below:
O ye that labour, the way open lies!
Come unto me lest some one shut the gate!
—What heavenly grace—what love will—or what fate—
The pinions of a dove on me bestow
That I may rest, and from the earth arise?
The elect angels and the souls in bliss,
The citizens of heaven, when, that first day,
My lady passed from me and went their way,
Of marvel and pity full, did round her press.
“What light is this, and what new loveliness?”
They said among them; “for such sweet display
Did never mount, that from the earth did stray
To this high dwelling, all this age, we guess!”2
She, well content her lodging chang’d to find,
Shows perfect, by her peers most perfect placed;
And now and then half turning looks behind
To see if I walk in the way she traced:
Hence I lift heavenward all my heart and mind
Because I hear her pray me to make haste.
The Italian scholar will understand that the retention of the feminine rimes in translation from this language is an impossibility.
O Lady fair, whose honoured name doth grace
Green vale and noble ford of Rheno’s stream—
Of all worth void the man I surely deem
Whom thy fair soul enamoureth not apace,
When softly self-revealed to time and space
By actions sweet with which thy will doth teem,
And fair gifts that Love’s bow and arrows seem—
But are the flowers that crown thy perfect race.
When thou dost lightsome talk or gladsome sing,—
A power to draw the hill-trees, rooted hard—
The doors of eyes and ears let that man keep
Who knows himself unworthy thy regard!
Grace from above alone him help can bring
That Passion in his heart strike not too deep.
As in the twilight brown, on hillside bare,
Useth to go the little shepherd maid,
Watering some strange fair plant, poorly displayed,
Ill thriving in unwonted soil and air
Far from its native springtime’s genial care;
So on my ready tongue hath Love assayed
In a strange speech to wake new flower and blade,
While I of thee, proud yet so debonair,
Sing songs whose sense is to my people lost—
Yield the fair Thames, and the fair Arno gain.
Love willed it so, and I, at others’ cost,
Already knew Love never willed in vain:
Would my heart slow and bosom hard were found
To him who plants from heaven so fair a ground!
Ladies, and youths that in their favour bask,
With mocking smiles come round me: Prithee, why,
Why dost thou with an unknown language cope,
Love-riming? Whence thy courage for the task?
Tell us—so never frustrate be thy hope,
And the best thought still to thy thinking fly!
Thus me they mock: Thee other streams, they cry,
Thee other shores, another sea demands
Upon whose verdant strands
Are budding, even this moment, for thy hair
Immortal guerdon, bays that will not die:
An over-burden on thy back why bear?—
Song, I will tell thee; thou for me reply:
My lady saith—and her word is my heart—
This is Love’s mother-tongue, and fits his part.
Diodati—and I muse to tell the tale—
This stubborn I, that Love was wont despise
And make a laughter of his snares, unwise,
Am fallen—where honest feet will sometimes fail.
Not golden tresses, not a cheek vermeil,
Dazzle me thus; but, in a new-world guise,
A foreign Fair my heart beatifies—
With mien where high-souled modesty I hail;
Eyes softly splendent with a darkness dear;
A speech that more than one tongue vassal hath;
A voice that in the middle hemisphere
Might make the tired moon wander from her path;
While from her eyes such gracious flashes shoot
That stopping hard my ears were little boot.
Certes, my lady sweet, your blessed eyes—
It cannot be but that they are my sun;
As strong they smite me as he smites upon
The man whose way o’er Libyan desert lies,
The while a vapour hot doth me surprise
From that side springing where my pain doth won:
Perchance accustomed lovers—I am none
And know not—in their speech call such things sighs:
A part shut in, sore vexed, itself conceals,
And shakes my bosom; part, undisciplined,
Breaks forth, and all around to ice congeals;
But that which to mine eyes the way doth find,
Makes all my nights in silent showers abound,
Until my dawn.3 returns, with roses crowned.
A modest youth, in love a simpleton,
When to escape myself I seek and shift,
Lady, I of my heart the humble gift
Vow unto thee. In trials many a one,
True, brave, I’ve found it, firm to things begun;
By gracious, prudent, worthy thoughts uplift.
When roars the great world, in the thunder-rift,
Its own self, armour adamant, it will don,
From chance and envy as securely barred,
From fears and hopes that still the crowd abuse,
As inward gifts and high worth coveting,
And the resounding lyre, and every Muse:
There only wilt thou find it not so hard
Where Love hath fixed his ever cureless sting.
Of all the joys earth possesses,
None the gladness fine surpasses
Which I give you with my singing,
And with much harmonious ringing.
An evil spirit cannot dwell
Where companions are singing well;
Here strife, wrath, envy, hate, are not;
Every heartache must leave the spot:
Greed, care, all things that hard oppress
Troop off with great unwillingness.
Also each man is free to this—
For such a joy no trespass is,
God himself pleasing better far
Than all the joys on earth that are;
It breaks the toils by Satan spun,
And many a murder keeps undone.
Of this, King David is the proof,
Who often Saul did hold aloof,
All with his harping sweet and well,
That he not into murder fell.
For God’s own truth, in word and will
It makes the heart ready and still;
That knew Elisha well, I wot,
When he the Spirit by harping got.
The best time of the year is mine,
When all the little birds sing fine,
Fill heaven and earth full of their strain:
Much good singing is going then;
The nightingale the lead she takes,
And everything right merry makes
With her gladsome lovely song,
For which great thanks to her belong.
But more to our dear Lord God, much,
Who has created the bird such,
A songstress of the true right sort,
A mistress of the music-art:
She sings and springs, both nights and days,
To him, not weary of his praise.
Him lauding come my songs as well,
My everlasting thanks to tell.
LUTHER’S SONG-BOOK.
I. ADVENT
II. CHRISTMAS
III. EPIPHANY
IV. EASTER
V. PENTECOST
VI. THE TRINITY
VII. THE CHURCH AND WORD OF GOD
VIII. GRACE
IX. THE COMMANDMENTS
X. THE CREED
XI. PRAYER
XII. BAPTISM
XIII. REPENTANCE
XIV. THE LORD’S SUPPER
XV. DEATH
XVI. THE PRAISE OF GOD
OF LIFE AT COURT
Come, saviour of nations wild,
Of the maiden owned the child
That may wonder all the earth
God should grant it such a birth.
Not of man’s flesh or man’s blood
Only of the Spirit of God
Is God’s Word a man become,
And blooms the fruit of woman’s womb.
Maiden, she was found with child,
Nor was chastity defiled;
Many a virtue from her shone:
God was there upon his throne.
From that chamber of content,
Royal palace pure, he went;
God by kind, in human grace
Forth he comes to run his race.
From the Father came his road,
And returns again to God;
Unto hell it did go down,
Up then to the Father’s throne.
Thou, the Father’s form express,
Get thee victory in the flesh,
That thy godlike power in us
Make sick flesh victorious.
Shines thy manger bright and fair;
Sets the night a new star there:
Darkness thence must keep away;
Faith dwells ever in the day.
Honour unto God be done;
Honour to his only son;
Honour to the Holy Ghost,
Now, and ever, ending not. Amen.
Jesus we now must laud and sing,
The maiden Mary’s son and king,
Far as the blessed sun doth shine,
And reaches to earth’s utmost line.4
The blessed maker of all we view
On him a servant’s body drew,
The flesh to save at flesh’s cost,
Else his creation had been lost.
From heaven high the Godlike grace
In the chaste mother found a place;
A secret pledge a maiden bore—
A thing to earth unknown before.
The tender heart, house modest, low,
Straightway a temple of God did grow:
Whom never man hath touched or known
By God’s word she with child is grown.
The noble mother hath brought forth
Whom Gabriel promised to the earth;
Him John did greet in joyous way
While in his mother’s womb he lay.
Right poorly lies in hay the boy;
Th’ hard manger him did not annoy;
A little milk made him content
Away who no bird hungry sent.
Therefore the heavenly choir is loud;
The angels sing their praise to God,
And tell poor men their flocks who keep
He’s come who made and keeps their sheep.
Praise, honour, thanks, to thee be said,
Christ Jesus, born of holy maid!
With God the Father and Holy Ghost,
Now and for ever, ending not. Amen!
Praised be thou, O Jesus Christ,
That a man on earth thou liest!
Born of a maiden—it is true—
In this exults the heavenly crew.
Kyrioleis.5
The Father’s only son begot
In the manger has his cot,
In our poor dying flesh and blood
Doth mask itself the eternal Good.
Kyrioleis.
Whom all the world could not enwrap
Lieth he in Mary’s lap;
A little child he now is grown
Who everything upholds alone.
Kyrioleis.
In him the eternal light breaks through,
Gives the world a glory new;
A great light shines amid the night,
And makes us children of the light.
Kyrioleis.
The Father’s son, so God his name,
A guest into this world he came;
And leads us from the vale of tears:
He in his palace make us heirs.
Kyrioleis.
Poor to the earth he cometh thus,
Pity so to take on us;
And makes us rich in heaven above,
And like the angels of his love.
Kyrioleis.
Therefore the heavenly choir is loud;
The angels sing their praise to God,
And tell poor men their flocks who keep
He’s come who made and keeps their sheep.
Therefore the heavenly choir is loud;
The angels sing their praise to God,
And tell poor men their flocks who keep
He’s come who made and keeps their sheep.
All this for us hath Jesus done,
And his great love to us hath shown:
Let Christendom rejoice therefore,
And give him thanks for evermore!
Kyrioleis.
From heaven high I come to you,
I bring a story good and new:
Of goodly news so much I bring,
Of it I must both speak and sing.
To you a child is come this morn,
A child of chosen maiden born,
A little babe so sweet and mild
Your joy and bliss shall be that child.
‘Tis the Lord Christ, our very God.
He will you ease of all your load;
He’ll be himself your Saviour sure
And from all sinning make you pure.
He brings you all the news so glad
Which God the Father ready had—
That you shall in his heavenly house
Live now and evermore with us.
Take heed then to the token sure—
The crib, the swaddling clothes so poor:
The infant you shall find laid there
Who all the world doth hold and bear.
Hence let us all be gladsome then,
And with the shepherd-folk go in
To see what God to us hath given
With his dear honoured Son from heaven.
Take note, my heart; see there! look low:
What lies then in the manger so?
Whose is the lovely little child?
It is the darling Jesus-child.
Hail, noble guest in humble guise,
Poor sinners who didst not despise,
And com’st to me in misery!
My thoughts must all be thanks to thee!
Ah Lord! the maker of us all!
How hast thou grown so poor and small
That there thou liest on withered grass,
The supper of the ox and ass!
Were the world wider many fold,
And decked with gems and cloth of gold,
‘T were far too mean and narrow all
To be for thee a cradle small!
The silk and velvet that are thine
Are rough hay, linen not too fine;
Thereon thou, king so rich and great,
Liest as if in heavenly state.
And this hath therefore pleased thee,
To make this truth right plain to me,
That all the world’s power, honour, wealth
Are nothing to thy heart or health.
Ah, little Christ! my heart’s poor shed
Would make thee a soft, little bed:
Rest there as in a lowly shrine,
And make that heart for ever thine,
That so I always gladsome be,
Ready to dance, and sing to thee
The lullaby thou lovest best,
With sweetest hymn for dearest guest.
Glory to God on highest throne
Who gave to us his only Own!
For this the angel troop sings in
A New Year with gladsome din.
Right poorly lies in hay the boy;
Th’ hard manger him did not annoy;
A little milk made him content
Away who no bird hungry sent.
Right poorly lies in hay the boy;
Th’ hard manger him did not annoy;
A little milk made him content
Away who no bird hungry sent.
From heaven the angel-troop come near
And to the shepherds plain appear:
A tender little child, they cry,
In a rough manger lies hard by,
In Bethlehem, David’s town of old,
As Prophet Micah has foretold;
‘Tis the Lord Jesus Christ, I wis,
Who of you all the saviour is.
And ye may well break out in mirth
That God is one with you henceforth;
For he is born your flesh and blood—
Your brother is the eternal Good.
He will nor can from you go hence;
Put you in him your confidence.
However many you assail,
Defy them—He can never fail!
What can death do to you, or sin?
The true God is to you come in.
Let hell and Satan raging go—
The Son of God’s your comrade now!
At last you must approval win,
For you are now become God’s kin:
For this go thanking God alway,
Happy and patient every day. Amen.
The noble mother hath brought forth
Whom Gabriel promised to the earth;
Him John did greet in joyous way
While in his mother’s womb he lay.
The noble mother hath brought forth
Whom Gabriel promised to the earth;
Him John did greet in joyous way
While in his mother’s womb he lay.
Herod, why dreadest thou a foe
Because the Christ comes born below?
He seeks no mortal kingdom thus,
But brings his kingdom down to us.
After the star the wise men go:
That light the true light them did show;
They signify with presents three
This child—God, Man, and King to be.
In Jordan baptism he did take,
This Lamb of God, for our poor sake;
Thus he who never did a sin
Hath washed us clean both out and in.
A miracle straightway befell:
Six pots of stone—they saw, who tell—
Of water full, which, changing, heard
And turned to red wine at his word.
Praise, honour, thanks to thee be said,
Jesus, born of the holy maid!
With the Father and the Holy Ghost,
Now, and henceforward, evermore. Amen.
Death held our Lord in prison
For sin that did undo us;
But he hath up arisen
And brought our life back to us.
Therefore must we gladsome be,
Praise our God, and thankful be,
And sing out halleluja! Halleluja!
No man yet Death overcame—
All sons of men were helpless;
Sin for this was all to blame,
For no one yet was guiltless.
So Death came that early hour,
Over us took up the power,
Us held in’s kingdom captive. Halleluja!
Jesus Christ, God’s only Son,
Into our place descending,
Away with all our sins hath done,
And therewith from Death rending
Right and might, made him a jape,
Left him nothing but Death’s shape:
His ancient sting—he has lost it: Halleluja!
That was a right wondrous strife
When Death in Life’s grip wallowed:
Off victorious came Life,
Death he hath upswallowed.
Scripture itself has told us that—
How one Death the other ate:6
Now is Death become a laughter. Halleluja!
Here is the true Easter-lamb,
That God said must be shared,
Which up on the cross’s stem
In Love’s fire is prepared.
His blood on our door-post lies;
Faith holds that before Death’s eyes:
The destroyer dares not touch us: Halleluja!
So we keep high feast of grace!
Hearty the joy and glee is
That shines on us from his face:
The sun himself, ah! he is,
Who, by his brightness divine,
Through and through makes our hearts shine:
The night of our sins is over. Halleluja!
We eat—and well so we fare—
True Easter cakes sans leaven;
For th’ old leaven shall not share
In the new word from heaven.
Christ himself will be the food,
He alone fill us with good:
Faith will live on nothing other. Halleluja!
Jesus Christ, our Saviour true
He who Death overthrew,
Is up arisen,
And sin hath put in prison.
Kyrieeleison.
Born whom Mary sinless hath,
Bore he for us God’s wrath,
Hath reconciled us:
Favour God doth now yield us.
Kyrieeleison.
Death and sin, and life and grace,
All to his hands we trace:
He can deliver
All who seek the life-giver.
Kyrieeleison.
Come, God, Creator, Holy Ghost,
Visit the heart of all thy men;
Fill them with grace the way thou know’st:
What was thine, make so again;
Our Comforter to soothe or chide;
The blessed gift of highest God!
A ghostly chrism to us applied,
Live streams—fire—love spread abroad!
O kindle in our minds a light;
Give in our hearts love’s glowing gift;
Our weak flesh, known to thee aright,
With thy strength and grace uplift.
In giving gifts thou art sevenfold—
The finger thou on God’s right hand!
His word by thee right soon is told
With clov’n tongues in every land.
Drive far the cunning of the foe;
Thy grace bring peace and make us whole,
That we glad after thee may go,
And shun that which hurts the soul.
Teach us to know the Father right,
And Jesus Christ, his son, that so
We may with faith be filled quite,
Spirit of both, thee to know!
Praise God the Father, and the Son
Who from the dead arose in power;
Like praise to the Consoling One,
Evermore and every hour! Amen.
Come, Holy Spirit, Lord and God,
Fill full with thine own gracious good
Thy faithful ones’ heart, mind, desire!
Light in them of thy love the fire.
O Lord, through thy light, flashing fast,
Into the faith thou gathered hast
People of all tongues under heaven:
That to thy glory, Lord, be given!
Halleluja! Halleluja!
Thou holy light, retreat from strife,
Cause shine on us the word of life,
That we the truth of God gather,
Call him heartily our Father.
O Lord, protect us from strange lore,
That we for teachers seek no more,
But with true faith Jesus solely,
And him with all our might trust wholly:
Halleluja! Halleluja!
Thou holy fire, thou comfort sweet,
Now help us; with good cheer us meet;
That in thy service nought shake us,
Trouble never leave thee make us.
O Lord, by thy might us prepare,
And make the weak flesh strong to bear,
That we strive7 like knights campaigning,
Through death and life to thee straining:
Halleluja! Halleluja!
Now let us pray the Holy Ghost,
Of all things, for the true faith most,
In that to preserve us when we are dying,
And going home out of this vale of crying:
Kyrioleis.
Thou noble light, shine as thou hast shone;
Teach us to know Jesus Christ alone,
That we the true Saviour hold by the hand
Who us has brought to the real fatherland:
Kyrioleis.
Thou sweet Love, grant us thy favour, that so
We feel of thy love the inward glow,
That we from our hearts may love each the other,
Dwelling in peace, of one mind together:
Kyrioleis.
Comfort highest, in danger or blame
Help us to fear neither death nor shame;
Nor let weak senses with fears confuse us
When the enemy comes to accuse us:
Kyrioleis.