From the Epistle. [Rom.6:3]

9,8,9,8

O der alles hätt verloren

[103]Anon.

trans. by Catherine Winkworth, 1855

Well for him who all things losing,

E'en himself doth count as nought,

Still the one thing needful choosing

That with all true bliss is fraught!

Well for him who nothing knoweth

But his God, whose boundless love

Makes the heart wherein it gloweth,

Calm and pure as saints above!

Well for him who all forsaking

Walketh not in shadows vain,

But the path of peace is taking

Through this vale of tears and pain!

Oh that we our hearts might sever

From earth's tempting vanities,

Fixing them on Him for ever

In whom all our fulness lies!

Oh that we might Him discover

Whom with longing love we've sought,

Joining us to Him for ever,

For without Him all is nought!

Oh that ne'er our eyes might wander

From our God, so might we cease

Ever o'er our sins to ponder,

And our conscience be at peace!

Thou abyss of love and goodness,

Draw us by Thy cross to Thee,

That our senses, soul, and spirit

Ever one with Christ may be!