O SACRED HEAD! NOW WOUNDED.

Lord, let me never, never
Outlive my love to Thee.

And when I am departing,

O part not Thou from me!
When mortal pangs are darting,
Come, Lord, and set me free!
And when my heart must languish
Amidst the final throe,
Release me from mine anguish
By Thine own pain and woe!1

Be near me when I'm dying,
Oh! show Thy cross to me;
And for my succor flying,

Come, Lord, and set me free!
These eyes new faith receiving
From Jesus shall not move;
For he, who dies believing,

Dies safely through Thy love.

181

1 This verse, which is admirably rendered from the German, —

"Wann ich einmal soll scheiden

So scheide nicht von mir," &c.,

is a gem, and well worthy to be the last suspirium of a dying Christian. In several American collections it is arbitrarily changed or omitted altogether. The sainted Dr. Alexander, in transmitting to me his translation from Princeton, in 1849, gave me a touching account of a poor German laborer who, on his death-bed in a foreign land, found his last strength and comfort in this verse, which he had committed to memory, in early youth, in his fatherland.

O SACRED HEAD, SURROUNDED.

(0 Haupt voll Blut und Wunden.)

Another version of GERHARDT's hymn, abridged. From Hymns Ancient and Modern, No. 97.

SACRED Head, surrounded

By crown of piercing thorn!
O bleeding Head, so wounded,

Reviled, and put to scorn!
Death's pallid hue comes o'er Thee,
The glow of life decays,

Yet angel-hosts adore Thee,
And tremble as they gaze.

I see Thy strength and vigor
All fading in the strife,
And death with cruel rigor
Bereaving Thee of life;
O agony and dying!

O love to sinners free!
Jesu, all grace supplying,
O turn Thy Face on me!

In this Thy bitter passion,

Good Shepherd, think of me,

CHRIST, THE LIFE OF ALL THE LIVING.

With Thy most sweet compassion,

Unworthy though I be:
Beneath Thy Cross abiding,

For ever would I rest;

In Thy dear love confiding,
And with Thy presence blest.

183

CHRIST, THE LIFE OF ALL THE LIVING. (Jesu, meines Lebens Leben.)

From the German of ERNST CHRISTOPH HOMBURG, 1659: "Jesu, meines Lebens Leben, Jesu, meines Todes Tod" (SCHAFF, No. 122; Choral Book for England, 1862).

HRIST, the Life of all the living,

CH

Christ, the Death of death, our foe,
Who Thyself for me once giving

To the darkest depths of woe,
Patiently didst yield Thy breath
But to save my soul from death;
Thousand, thousand thanks shall be,
Blessed Jesus, unto Thee.

Thou, ah, Thou, hast taken on Thee
Bitter strokes, a cruel rod;

Pain and scorn were heaped upon Thee,
O Thou sinless Son of God!

Only thus for me to win

Rescue from the bonds of sin;

Thousand, thousand thanks shall be,
Blessed Jesus, unto Thee.

Thou didst bear the smiting only
That it might not fall on me;
Stoodest falsely charged and lonely,
That I might be safe and free;
Comfortless, that I might know
Comfort from Thy boundless woe;
Thousand, thousand thanks shall be,
Blessed Jesus, unto Thee.

Then for all that wrought our pardon,
For Thy sorrows deep and sore,
For Thine anguish in the garden,
I will thank Thee evermore;
Thank Thee with my latest breath
For Thy sad and cruel death;
For that last and bitter cry,
Praise Thee evermore on high.

THOU HOLIEST LOVE, WHOM MOST I LOVE. 185

THOU HOLIEST LOVE, WHOM MOST I LOVE.

(0 Du Liebe meiner Liebe.)

From the German by an anonymous author, first published in Freylinghausen's Gesangbuch, Halle, 1704 (SCHAFF, No. 124). Translated by CATHERINE WINKWORTH (who, with many others, erroneously attributes this hymn to Angelus Silesius). It has recently been claimed for ELIZABETH VON SENITZ, died 1679.

THO

HOU Holiest Love, whom most I love,
Who art my longed-for only bliss,

Whom tenderest pity erst did move
To fathom woe and death's abyss;
Thou who didst suffer for my good,
And die my guilty debts to pay,
Thou Lamb of God, whose precious blood
Can take a world's misdeeds away!

Thou who didst bear the agony

That made e'en Thy strong spirit quail,
Yet ever yearnest still for me

With longing love that ne'er shall fail,
'Twas Thou wast willing, Thou alone,

To bear the righteous wrath of God;
Thy death hath stilled it, else had none
Found shelter from its awful load.