8,8,8,8,4

Brich durch mein angefochtnes.

[280]J. H. Böhmer.1704.

Courage, my sorely-tempted heart!

Break through thy woes, forget their smart;

Come forth and on Thy Bridegroom gaze,

The Lamb of God, the Fount of grace;

Here is thy place!

His arms are open, thither flee!

There rest and peace are waiting thee,

The deathless crown of righteousness,

The entrance to eternal bliss;

He gives thee this!

Then combat well, of nought afraid,

For thus His follower thou art made,

Each battle teaches thee to fight,

Each foe to be a braver knight,

Arm'd with His might.

If storms of fierce temptation rise,

Unmoved I'll face the frowning skies;

If but the heart is true indeed,

Christ will be with me in my need, --

His own could bleed.

I flee away to Thy dear cross,

For hope is there for every loss,

Healing for every wound and woe,

There all the strength of love I know

And feel its glow.

Before the Holy One I fall,

The Eternal Sacrifice for all;

His death has freed us from our load,

Peace on the anguish'd soul bestow'd,

Brought us to God.

How then should I go mourning on?

I look to Thee, -- my fears are gone,

With Thee is rest that cannot cease,

For Thou hast wrought us full release,

And made our peace.

Thy word hath still its glorious powers,

The noblest chivalry is ours;

O Thou, for whom to die is gain,

I bring Thee here my all, oh deign

To accept and reign!