Unser Herrscher, unser König

Lord our maker, Lord our master,
All our good in thee begun,
Glorious is thy reputation
For the wonders thou hast done:
Unto thee be praises given,
Deepest depth to highest heaven.

Few be in this generation
Who upon thy name still call,
Who yet love thee, who yet seek thee,
Who desire thee as their all,
Yet thy praise is not confounded:
Babes shall praise thy might unbounded.

Yes! 'tis painful! here we own it;
Shall we not in anguish sigh
When we see the many righteous
Who within the grave now lie?
How securely sleeps the sinner!
Is it not a dreadful wonder?

Yet shall I, O Lord, my master,
Ever love thee faithfully,
For I know, O faithful Father,
Of the love thou hast for me:
Here on earth possess my spirit
That I may thy heav'n inherit.

Lord, thy name is greatly lauded,
Praised for all the world to see,
Known where'er the sun is shining,
Through the air, and land, and sea—
Crieth earth and crieth heaven,
To Jehovah praise be given!

Lord, my master! O how glorious
Is thy name within my soul!
Therefore I thy wondrous workings
Shall before the world extol!
Give thy pow'r, that I may render
Praise to thee in holy wonder.

—Joachim Neander, from Psalm 8:1, trans. Z. Pletan. To "Unser Herrscher, unser König."