Whitsuntide again!

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!