All Men Living Are But Mortal |
Johann G. Albinus, 1652, tr. by Catherine Winkworth, 1863; German text
All men living are but mortal, Yea, all flesh must fade as grass; Only through death's gloomy portal To eternal life we pass. This frail body here must perish Ere the heavenly joys it cherish, Ere it gain the free reward For the ransomed of the Lord.
2. Therefore, when my God doth choose it,
3. Jesus for my sake descended | 4. There is joy beyond our telling, Where so many saints have gone; Thousands, thousands, there are dwelling, Worshiping before the throne, There the Seraphim are shining, Evermore in chorus joining: "Holy, holy, holy, Lord! Triune God, for aye adored!"
5. Patriarchs of sacred story
6. O Jerusalem, how glorious |
7. Yea, I see what here was told me, See that wondrous glory shine, Feel the spotless robes enfold me, Know a golden crown is mine. Thus before the throne so glorious Now I stand a soul victorious, Gazing on that joy for aye That shall never pass away. |