74 lines
4.1 KiB
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74 lines
4.1 KiB
HTML
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<title>BLB Hymns</title>
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<h2>ALL MEN LIVING ARE BUT MORTAL</h2>
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<p align="center"><h3>“The days of our years are threescore…and ten.” Psalm 90:10</h3></p>
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<center><b>Hymns Supplied Through the Gracious Generosity<br>of the </b><a href="http://www.hymntime.com/tch/" target = "_blank"><b>Cyber Hymnal Website</b></a><br><br><a href="./hymns/hymns_html/cyberhymnal_info.html" target = "_blank">Information about Cyber Hymnal Website</a></center>
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<p><img src="./hymns/hymns_img/img_w_i_winkworth_c.jpg" alt="Catherine Winkworth (1827-1878)" align="right" hspace="15" vspace="5" width="115.333333333333" height="196.666666666667"><em>Words:</em> <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_a_l_albinus_jg.html" target="_blank">Johann Georg Albinus</a>, 1652 (<em>Alle Menschen müssen sterben</em>). Stanzas 1-4, 6 & 7 translated from German to English by <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_w_i_winkworth_c.html" target="_blank">Catherine Winkworth</a>, 1863, alt.; translator of stanza 6 is unknown. Albinus wrote this hymn for the funeral
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of Paul von Henssberg, a Leipzig merchant, and was sung from broadsheets, June 1, 1652.</p>
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<p><em>Music:</em> “Alle Menschen Müssen Sterben” from <em>Praxis Pietatis Melica</em>, by <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_c_r_cruger_j.html" target="_blank">Johann Crüger</a> (Berlin, Germany: 1678); attributed to <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_r_o_rosenmuller_j.html" target="_blank">Johann Rosenmüller</a> </p><p><table><tr><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_mid/mid_a_l_almensch.mid" target = "_blank"><img border=0 src="./hymns/hymns_img/notes.gif"><br><b>Play MIDI</b></a></td><td> </td><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_html/score_info.html" target = "_blank"><b>Link to obtain<br>musical score info</b></a></td></tr></table></p>
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<div class="lyrics">
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<p>All men living are but mortal,<br>
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Yea, all flesh must fade as grass;<br>
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Only through death’s gloomy portal<br>
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To eternal life we pass.<br>
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This frail body here must perish<br>
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Ere the heav’nly love joys it cherish,<br>
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Ere it gain the free reward<br>
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For the ransomed of the Lord.</p>
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<p>Therefore, when my God doth choose it,<br>
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Willingly I’ll yield my life<br>
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Nor will grieve that I should lose it,<br>
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For with sorrows it was rife.<br>
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In my dear Redeemer’s merit<br>
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Peace hath found my troubled spirit,<br>
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And in death my comfort this:<br>
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Jesus’ death my source of bliss.</p>
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<p>Jesus for my sake descended<br>
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My salvation to obtain;<br>
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Death and hell for me are ended,<br>
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Peace and hope are now my gain;<br>
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Yea, with joy I leave earth’s sadness<br>
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For the home of heav’nly gladness,<br>
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Where I shall forever see<br>
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God, the Holy Trinity.</p>
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<p>There is joy beyond our telling,<br>
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Where so many saints have gone;<br>
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Thousands, thousands, there are dwelling,<br>
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Worshiping before the throne,<br>
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There the seraphim are shining,<br>
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Evermore in chorus joining:<br>
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“Holy, holy, holy Lord!<br>
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Triune God, for aye adored!”</p>
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<p>Patriarchs of sacred story<br>
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And the prophets there are found;<br>
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The apostles, too, in glory<br>
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On twelve seats are there enthroned,<br>
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All the saints that have ascended<br>
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Age on age, through time extended,<br>
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There in blissful concert sing<br>
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Hallelujahs to their King.</p>
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<p>O Jerusalem, how glorious<br>
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Dost thou shine, thou city fair!<br>
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Lo, I hear the tone victorious<br>
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Ever sweetly sounding there.<br>
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Oh, the bliss that there surprises!<br>
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Lo, the sun of morn now rises,<br>
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And the breaking day I see<br>
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That shall never end for me.</p>
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<p>Yea, I see what here was told me,<br>
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See that wondrous glory shine,<br>
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Feel the spotless robes enfold me,<br>
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Know a golden crown is mine,<br>
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Thus before the throne so glorious<br>
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Now I stand a soul victorious,<br>
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Gazing on that joy for aye<br>
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That shall never pass away.</p>
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