ANGLO-GERMAN POETRY

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jul 14, 1868

ANGLO-GERMAN POETRY.

The Kirchenfreund magazine, published at Mercersburg, and edited by the learned Professor Schaff, has a series of “Specimens of Anglo-German Church Poetry,” being translations into English of German hymns. We copy the English of one of them, from the pen of Professor James W. Alexander. The original is by Hartmann.

Now the crucible is breaking! Now my faith its seal is taking; Molten gold unhurt by fire, Only thus 'tis ever given, Up to joys of highest Heaven, For God's children to aspire.

Thus, by griefs, the Lord is moulding Mind and spirit, here unfolding His own image, to endure. Now he shapes our dust, but later Is the inner man's Creator; Thus he works by trials sure.

Sorrows quell our insurrection, Bring our members in subjection, Under Christ's prevailing will; While the broken powers he raises To the work of holy praises Quietly and softly still.

Sorrows gather home the senses Lest, seduced by earth's pretenses, They should after idols stroll. Like an angel guard, expelling Evil from the inmost dwelling, Bringing order to the soul.

Sorrow now the harp is stringing For the everlasting singing, Teaching us to soar above; Where the blessed choir, palm-bearing, Harps are playing, crowns are wearing, Round the throne with songs of love.

Sorrow makes alert and daring; Sorrow is the soul's preparing For the cold rest of the grave. Sorrow is a herald, hasting, Of that springtide whose unwasting Health the dying soul shall save.

Sorrow makes our faith abiding; Lowly, child-like, and confiding; Sorrow, who can speak thy grace? Earth may name thee Tribulation, Heaven has nobler appellation; Not thus honored all our race.

Brethren, these our perturbations, Step by step, through many stations, Lead disciples to their Sun. Soon—though many a pang has wasted, Soon—though many a death been tasted, Sorrow's watch of sighs is done.

Though the healthful powers were willing, All the Master's will fulfilling, By obedience to be tried, Oh! 'tis still no less a blessing, Such a Master's care possessing, In his furnace, to abide.

In the depth of keenest anguish, More and more the heart shall languish After Jesus' loving heart, For one blessing only crying; “Make me like thee in thy dying, Then thy endless life impart!”

Till, at length, with sighs all breaking, Through each bond its passage taking, Lo! the vail is rent in twain! Who remembers now earth's treasure! What a sea of godlike pleasure High in Heaven swells amain!

Now, with Jesus ever reigning Where the ransomed homes are gaining, Bathing in the endless light, All the heavenly ones are meeting; Brothers—sisters—let us, greeting, Claim them ours by kindred right.

Jesus! toward that hight of Heaven May a prospect clear be given, Till the parting hour shall come, Then, from pangs emerging brightly, May we all be wafted lightly By angelic convoy home!