N.F.S. Grundtvig: 'I al sin Glands nu straaler Solen'

 

I al sin Glands nu straaler Solen

 

I al sin Glands nu straaler Solen,

Livs-Lyset over Naadestolen,

Nu kom vor Pinselilje-Tid,

Nu har vi Sommer skær og blid,

Nu spaar os mer end Englerøst

I Jesu Navn en gylden Høst.

 

I Sommer-Nattens korte Svale

Slaar højt Fredskovens Nattergale,

Saa alt, hvad Herren kalder sit,

Maa slumre sødt og vaagne blidt,

Maa drømme sødt om Paradis,

Og vaagne til vor Herres Pris.

 

Det aander himmelsk over Støvet,

Det vifter hjemlig gjennem Løvet,

Det lufter liflig under Sky

Fra Paradis, opladt paa ny,

Og yndig risler ved vor Fod

I Engen Bæk af Livets Flod.

 

Det volder alt den Aand, som daler,

Det virker alt den Aand, som taler

Ej af sig selv, men os til Trøst,

Af Kiærlighed med Sandheds Røst,

I Ordets Navn, som her blev Kjød

Og foer til Himmels hvid og rød.

 

Opvaagner alle dybe Toner

Til Pris for Menneskets Forsoner!

Forsamles alle Tungemaal

I Takkesangens Offerskaal!

Istemmer over Herrens Bord

Nu Menighedens fulde Kor!

 

I Jesu Navn da Tungen gløder

Hos Hedninger saa vel som Jøder;

I Jesus-Navnets Offerskaal

Hensmelter alle Modersmaal;

I Jesu Navn udbryder da

Det evige Halleluja!

 

Vor Gud og Frelser uden Lige!

Da blomstrer Rosen i dit Rige,

Som Sole vi gaa op og ned

I din enbaarnes Herlighed;

Thi du for Hjertet, vi gav dig,

Gav os med ham dit Himmerig!

 

 

Now gleams the sun in all its splendour

 

Now gleams the sun in all its splendour,

o’er mercy seat life’s light to tender –

now Whitsun lily’s time is here,

now we have summer mild and clear –

will more than angel’s voice proclaim

a golden harvest in Christ’s name.        

 

In summer night’s brief coolness ringing

the forest’s nightingales are singing,

so all that God will ne’er forsake

may sweetly sleep and gently wake,

may sweetly dream of paradise

and wake their God to glorify.

 

And o’er the dust sighs heav’nly breathing,

and through the leaves wind’s gently heaving,

and ’neath the clouds a breeze that blew

from paradise is charged anew,

and in the meadow at our feet

from life’s own stream comes murmur sweet.

 

This wreaks all spirit now descending,

this speaks all spirit without ending

not of itself but – us to soothe –

of love, with voice of lasting truth,

as word made flesh that from the dead

rose up to heaven, white and red!

 

And all mankind its voice now raises

to sing its great Redeemer’s praises!

All tongues together now extol

their Lord at the communion bowl!

Over His table chants entire

the congregation’s mighty choir.

 

In Jesu’s name are tongues afire,

as jews and gentiles like aspire,

in Jesu’s sacrificial bowl

all tongues now melt to form one whole,

in Jesu’s name their voices lend

to Hallelujahs without end!

 

Our God and Father, mightiest power!

Now blooms the rose in Thy great bower,

like suns do we now rise and set,

in Thy Son’s glory are we met,

since for the heart that we gave Thee

through Him Thou gav’st us heaven’s key!