Translations. - The Hundred And Twenty-Eighth Psalm. (Luther's Song-Book.)

Happy who in God's fear doth stay,
And in it goeth on his way;
Thine own hand thee shall find thy food,
So liv'st thou right, and all is good.

So shall thy wife be, in thy house,
Like vine with clusters plenteous,
Thy children sit thy table round
Like olive plants all fresh and sound.

See, such rich blessing hangs him on
Whom God's fear maketh live a man;
From him the old curse away is worn
To which the sons of men are born.

From Zion God will prosper thee;
Thou shalt behold continually
Jerusalem's now happy case
So pleasing to the God of grace.

He will thy days prolong for thee,
With goodness ever nigh thee be
That thou with thy sons' sons may'st dwell,
And there be peace in Israel.

George MacDonald

George MacDonald (1824–1905) was a Scottish author, poet, and Christian minister best known for his fairy tales and fantasy novels. He was a pioneer in the fantasy genre, influencing notable writers such as C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. His major works include "Phantastes" and "Lilith," as well as numerous poems and other literary works. MacDonald's writings are characterized by their imaginative qualities and deep spiritual insight.

George MacDonald

My Eyes Make Pictures.

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

The Wakeful Sleeper

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

Translations. - The Fourteenth Psalm. (Luther's Song-Book.)

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

Sonnet. About Jesus. XIV.

George MacDonald, Simple Poetry

English

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Translations. - The Hundred And Thirtieth Psalm. (Luther's Song-Book.)

From trouble deep I cry to thee;
Lord God, hear thou my crying;
Thy gracious ear oh turn to me,
Open it to thy sighing.
For if thou mean'st to look upon
The wrong and evil that is done,
Who, Lord, can stand before thee?

With thee availeth nought but grace
To cover trespass mortal;
Our good deeds cannot show their face,
In best life they come short all.
Before thee no one glory can,
And so must tremble every man,
And live by thy grace only.

Hope therefore in my God will I,
On my deserts nought founding;
Upon him shall my heart rely,
All on his goodness grounding.
What his true word doth promise me
My comfort shall and refuge be;
That will I always wait for.

And if it last into the night,
And last again till mornin...

George MacDonald

Translations. - The Twelfth Psalm. (Luther's Song-Book.)

Ah God, from heaven look down and view;
Let it thy pity waken;
Behold thy saints how very few!
We wretches are forsaken.
Thy word they grant nor true nor right,
And faith is thus extinguished quite
Among the sons of Adam.

They teach a cunning false and fine--
In their own wits they found it;
Their heart in one doth not combine,
Nor on God's word they ground it;
One chooses this, the other that;
Endless division they are at,
And yet they keep smooth faces.

God will outroot the teachers all
Who with false shows present us;
Besides, their proud tongues loudly call--
Tush! tush!--who can prevent us?
We have the right and might in full;
And what we say, that is the rule;
Who dares to give us lessons!

Therefore saith God: I...

George MacDonald

Translations. - The Hundred And Twenty-Fourth Psalm. (Luther's Song-Book.)

Were God not with us all the time--
Israel may loud declare it--
Were God not with us all the time,
We must have now despaired;
For we are such a little flock
Despised by such a crowd of folk,
Who all do set upon us!

'Gainst us so angry is their mood,
If God had given them tether
Us they had swallowed where we stood,
Body and soul together.
We should have been drowned all, like those
O'er whom the waters great did close,
And swept them off relentless.

Thank God! their throat who did not let
Us swallow when it gaped;
As from a snare a bird doth flit
So is our soul escaped.
The snare's in two, and we are through:
The name of God it standeth true,
The God of earth and heaven. Amen.

George MacDonald

Translations. - The Fourteenth Psalm. (Luther's Song-Book.)

Although the fools say with their mouth:
Great God, we magnify him;
Their heart cares nothing for the truth,
In action they deny him.
Their being is corrupted quite;
To God it is a horrid sight;
Not one of them works goodness.

From heaven God downward cast his eye
Upon men's sons so many;
He set himself to look and spy
If he could find out any
Who their own reason up had stirred
Earnestly to obey God's word,
After his will enquiring.

Upon the right path there was none;
From it they all were straying;
Each followed fancies of his own,
Them to ill deeds bewraying.
Not one of them did good even once,
Though many, fooled by arrogance,
Thought God with them well pleased.

How long by lies will they be led
Who vain atte...

George MacDonald

Translations. - The Sixty-Seventh Psalm. (Luther's Song-Book.)

Would that the Lord would grant us grace,
And in his volume write us!
With its clear shining let his face
To life eternal light us;
That we may know his work at length,
And what men him have faith in;
And Jesus Christ our health and strength
Be known to all the heathen,
And unto God convert them.

God then will thank, and thee will praise
The heathen with glad voices;
Let all the world for joy upraise
A song with mighty noises,
Because thou art earth's judge, O Lord,
Nor leav'st the righteous quailing;
Thy word it is both bed and board,
And for all folk availing
In the right path to keep them.

Let them thank God, and thee adore,
Thy folk of deeds of grace full.
The land grows fruitful more and more;
Thy word it is successful...

George MacDonald

Translations. - A Song Of Thanksgiving For The Benefits Most Great Which God Hath Shown To Us In Christ. (Luther's Song-Book.)

Dear Christians, let us now rejoice,
And dance in joyous measure;
That, of good cheer, and with one voice,
We sing in love and pleasure
Of what to us our God hath shown,
And the sweet wonder he hath done:
Full dearly hath he bought it!

Forlorn and lost in death I lay
A captive to the devil;
My sin lay heavy, night and day,
For I was born in evil.
I fell but deeper for my strife
There was no good in all my life,
For sin had all-possessed me.

My good works they were worthless quite,
A mock was all my merit;
My free will hates God's judging light,
To all good dead and buried.
Me to despair my anguish drove,
Down unto death my soul did shove:
I must be plunged in hell-fire!

Then God was sorry on his throne
To see suc...

George MacDonald