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have noticed. English poets have declined to attempt the translation of the lyrics of Speratus, no doubt for the reason for which they avoid Spengler. Of one of Speratus' hymns, however, we must hazard a version. It is that entitled "Es ist das Heil uns kommen her," and awoke at the time of its publication the wildest enthusiasm on the part of the people. It was chanted in the streets, shouted at the battles, and sung at the churches. A parody of it published by the Roman Catholics only added to its celebrity, and from the very attacks which its rude energy and doctrinal sharpness provoked, it became an element in the reformation almost as completely as Luther's "Ein feste Burg." If we are disposed to carp at the homely simplicity of the hymn we now give, it would be well for us to look upon our own present popular union meeting hymns, for example, "What's the news," "Joyfully, joyfully," and then, when we see how in each period rhythm and poetic elegance give way to lyrical fire and to tune, inquire whether after all the subordination of melody to force may not be essential to the awakening of the great popular heart. But we pass to give a verse or two of this famous hymn:

It is salvation come to us,

Free grace and love transcendent,
Head-works can never save us more,
On works no more dependent:
And faith looks up to Christ the Lord,
For He will strength enough afford,

Our Saviour and Redeemer.

The following ten verses go on to set forth with an almost defiant energy the doctrine of the worthlessness of human efforts, and of the necessity and joy of justification by faith. One of these.verses (the 9th) we will attempt:

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One other of Luther's poetical co-laborers we must notice before we pass this the heroic era of German Hymnology. MARTIN SCHALLING was born in 1532 at Strasburg, and led a long and laborious ministerial life, embracing fifty-four years of active service at Regensburg, Vilseck, Amberg, and Nuremberg, at which last place he died in 1608. The hymn we now give, "Herzlich lieb," etc., was long afterwards declared by Gellert, himself the first of the later German religious poets, to be worth whole volumes of modern hymns. In Schalling the reader will observe the gradual toning away from the heroic to the pietistic phase, which was to mark the succeeding period. We place together Miss Winkworth's translation, and one by ourselves, which, though not equally spirited, is more literal:

Lord, all my heart is fixed on Thee,
I pray Thee, be not far from me,

With grace and love divine.

The whole wide world delights me not,
Of heaven or earth, Lord, ask I not,

If only Thou art mine:

And though my heart be like to break,
Thou art my trust that naught can shake,
My portion and my hidden joy,
Whose cross could all my bonds destroy;
Lord Jesus Christ!

My God and Lord! My God and Lord!
Forsake me not who trust Thy word!

Ah Lord, let Thy dear angels come
At my last end to bear me home

To Paradise for aye;
And in its narrow chamber keep
My body safe in painless sleep,
Until Thy Judgment Day;
And then from death awaken me,

Oh! true the love I bear to Thee,
And be Thou, Master, near to me,

With thy free grace and blessing,
For all the world to me is vain,
Nor would I earth and heaven gain,

If not my Lord possessing;
And though my heart asunder break,
In Thee I will my refuge take,
In Thee my trust and portion see,
O Thou, whose blood was shed for me.
Lord Jesus Christ! My God and Lord!

My God and Lord!
Keep me forever in Thy Word.

O Father! let thine angel blest,
My soul in its last end, to rest

In Abraham's bosom carry;
The body in the drapery
Of its low bed will calmly lie,

As long as thou shalt tarry;
Then from the grave let me arise,

That these mine eyes with joy may see, And wake with all rejoicing eyes,

O Son of God, Thy glorious face,
My Saviour, and my Fount of Grace!
Lord Jesus Christ!

Receive my prayer, receive my prayer!
Thy love will I for aye declare.
(Miss Winkworth.)

Thy form, O Son of God, to see,
Thou who didst help and succor me!

Lord Jesus Christ! oh! hear my prayer,
Oh! hear my prayer,
To Thee my praise I'll ever bear.

(Translation now submitted.)

Such are specimens of the heroic period of German poetry. Next comes the pietist, not however, without a transition era. At the head of this last stands Paul Gerhardt. This great lyrical writer (known to most of our readers by the magnificent hymn translated by Dr. Alexander in a version beginning, "O sacred head now wounded") combined the elements of martial fire with those of penitential sweetness. His genius, like an organ of full tone and compass, sounded with equal power sometimes the trumpet-call arousing the heart to battle, sometimes those softer and more pathetic notes which calm sorrow and sweeten meditation. On Gerhardt volumes have been written. For us it will be enough to say, that he was born in 1606, and died in 1676 as arch-deacon in Lausanne. He fought himself under Gustavus Adolphus; he had no doubt as to the duty of every other true German doing the same. "Laborare est orare" was the motto of the great Saxon reformer; "Militare est orare" was its paraphrase by his poetic ut none the less heroic successor. Of Gerhardt's martial hymns, the following is given by Miss Winkworth :

If God be on my side,

Then let who will oppose,

For oft, ere now, to Him I cried,
And He hath quelled my foes,

If Jesus be my friend,

If God doth love me well,

What matters all my foes intend,

Though strong they be and fell?

The world may fail and flee,

Thou standest fast forever,

Nor fire, nor sword, nor plague from Thee

My trusting soul shall sever.

No hunger and no thirst,

No poverty or pain,

Let mighty princes do their worst,
Shall fright me back again.

My heart for gladness springs,
It can not more be sad,
For very joy it laughs and sings,

Sees naught but sunshine glad.

The sun that glads mine eyes

Is Christ the Lord I love,
I sing for joy of that which lies
Stored up for us above.

2

Lyra Germanica.

Still more trumpet-like is the following:

Give strong and cheerful hearts to stand

Undaunted in the wars,

That Satan's fierce and mighty band

Is waging with Thy cause.

Help us to fight as warriors brave,

That we may conquer in the field,
And not one Christian man may yield
His soul to sin a slave."

And yet while Gerhardt could thus move an army to battle, there were cadences in his melodies so sweet, so simple, and so tender, as even, to use the words of one of his German critics, to melt the heart of a beggar child. Of this we merely take as an illustration, that exquisite evening hymn, “ Nun ruhen alle Wälder," thus translated by the author of "Hymns of the Land of Luther:"

Quietly rest the woods and dales,
Silence round the hearth prevails,
The world is all asleep;
Thou, my soul, in thought arise,
Seek thy Father in the skies,

And holy vigils with Him keep.

Sun, where hidest thou thy light?
Art thou driven thence by night,
Thy dark and ancient foe?
Go! another sun is mine,
Jesus comes with light divine,

To cheer my pilgrimage below.

Now that day has passed away,
Golden stars, in bright array,
Bespangle the blue sky;
Bright and clear, so would I stand,
When I hear my Lord's command

To leave this earth and upward fly.

Now, this body seeks for rest,
From its vestments all undressed,
Types of immortality:

Christ shall give me soon to wear
Garments beautiful and fair-

White robes of glorious majesty.

Head and feet and hands, once more
Joy to think of labor o'er,

And night with gladness see.

O my heart! thou, too, shalt know

Rest from all thy toil below,

And from earth's turmoil soon be free.

Weary limbs, now rest ye here,
Safe from danger and from fear,
Seek slumber on this bed;
Deeper rest ere long to share,
Other hands shall soon prepare
My couch among the dead.

While my eyes I gently close,
Stealing o'er me soft repose,

Who shall my guardian be?
Soul and body now I leave,
(And Thou wilt the trust receive,)
O Israel's Watchman! unto Thee.

O my friends, from you this day
May all ill have fled away,

No danger near have come;

Now, my God, these dear ones keep,

Give to my beloved sleep,

And angels send to guard them home.

Of Gerhardt's devotional hymns, the most spirited and at the same time the most touching, is that beginning, "O Haupt voll Blut," etc. Two verses only of the translation by Dr. J. W. Alexander we have space to give:

O sacred head! now wounded,

With grief and shame bowed down,

Now scornfully surrounded

With thorns, Thine only crown;

O sacred head! what glory,
What bliss till now was Thine;

But though despised and gory,
I joy to call Thee mine.

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