Jane Borthwick (trans.) · 20 of 79

My Father is the mighty Lord, whose arm

"All things are yours."--1 Cor. 3:21.

"Mein Vater ist der grosse Herr der Welt."

My Father is the mighty Lord, whose arm Spans earth and sky, and shields His child from harm-- Whose still, small voice of love is yet the same As once from Horeb's fiery mount it came-- Whose glorious works the angel-choirs declare. He hears their praise, and hearkens to my prayer.

My King is God's eternal, holy Son, And He anoints me as a chosen one; He has redeemed me with His precious blood, And for unnumber'd debts has surety stood; He fought the foe, and drew me by His hand, Out from his camp, into His Father's land.

My brotherhood's a circle, stretching wide Around one fount, although a sea divide; With fathers, who behold the Lord in light, With saints unborn, who shall adore His might, With brothers, who the race of faith now run, In union and communion, I am one!

My journey's end lies upward and afar; It glimmers bright, but vaguely as a star; And oft as faith has caught some glimpse serene, So often clouds and mists obscure the scene; Yet, in this longing ends each vision dim-- To see my Lord, and to be made like Him!

My grave, so long a dark and drear abyss, Is now scarce noticed on the way to bliss; Once at the gates of Hell it yawning lay, Now stands as portal to the land of day; It takes me to the Fathers home so blest; It brings me to the feast, a welcome guest.