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Text: | The sun now shines in all its splendor |
Author: | Nikolai Frederick Severin Grundtvig, 1783-1872 |
Translator: | S. D. Rodholm |
The sun now shines in all its splendor,
The fount of life and mercy tender;
Now bright Whitsunday lilies grow
And summer sparkles high and low;
Sweet songsters sing of harvest gold
In Jesus’ name a thousand fold.
The peaceful nightingales are filling
The quiet night with music thrilling.
Thus all that to the Lord belong
May rest in peace and wake with song,
May dream of life beyond the skies,
And with God’s praise at daylight rise.
It breathes from heaven on the flowers,
It whispers home-like in the bowers,
A balmy breeze comes to our coast
From Paradise, no longer closed,
And gently purls a brooklet sweet
Of life’s clear water at our feet.
This works the Spirit, still descending,
And tongues of fire to mortals lending,
That broken hearts may now be healed,
And life with grace and love revealed
In Him, who came from yonder land
And has returned to God’s right hand.
Awaken then all tongues to honor
Lord Jesus Christ, our blest Atoner;
Let every voice in anthems rise
To praise the Savior’s sacrifice.
And thou, His Church, with one accord
Arise and glorify the Lord.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | The sun now shines in all its splendor |
Author: | Nikolai Frederick Severin Grundtvig, 1783-1872 |
Translator: | S. D. Rodholm (1945) |
Meter: | 9,9,8,8,8,8 |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1945 |