Are the firstfruits of storm, which in sunshine oft endeth.
I bless thee then, God, on life’s journey the guide,
Whom all seek to escape, but from whom none can hide,
For the lowliest ever thy grace can best win,
And the sinner thy love, yea, because of his sin!
Blessed the man who can lose self in God!
Blessed the man who is chosen of God!
Blessed the heaven, in music ensphered,
Blessed the world, as thy mirror endeared!
Blest the stars which shine peacefully, far above strife,