DECK THYSELF, MY SOUL, WITH GLADNESS

A HYMN FOR THE 18TH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

By Johann Franck, 1649
Translated by Catherine Winkworth, 1827-78

1 Deck thyself, my soul, with gladness,
Leave the gloomy haunts of sadness;
Come into the daylight's splendour,
There with joy thy praises render
Unto him whose grace unbounded
Hath this wondrous banquet founded:
High o'er all the heavens he reigneth,
Yet to dwell with thee he deigneth.

2 Now I sink before thee lowly,
Filled with joy most deep and holy,
As with trembling awe and wonder
On thy mighty works I ponder:
How, by mystery surrounded,
Depth no mortal ever sounded,
None may dare to pierce unbidden
Secrets that with thee are hidden.

3 Sun, who all my life dost brighten,
Light, who dost my soul enlighten,
Joy, the sweetest heart e'er knoweth,
Fount, whence all my being floweth,
At thy feet I cry, my Maker,
Let me be a fit partaker
Of this blessed food from heaven,
For our good, thy glory, given.

4 Jesus, Bread of Life, I pray thee,
Let me gladly here obey thee;
Never to my hurt invited,
Be thy love with love requited:
From this banquet let me measure,
Lord, how vast and deep its treasure;
Through the gifts thou here dost give me,
As thy guest in heaven receive me.