Aarhus Baroque Choir singing at a concert in March 2008.
Motet for five voices, from the collection 'Praetum Spirituale', 1620
Ad te levavi oculos meos,
qui habitas in coelis.
Ecce sicut oculi servorum
in manibus dominorum suorum,
sicut oculi ancillae
in manibus dominae suae,
ita oculi nostri
ad Dominum Deum nostrum,
donec misereatur nostri.
Miserere nostri, Domine
quia multum repleti sumus despectione.
UNTO thee, O LORD, will I lift up my soul; my God, I have put my trust in thee: * O let me not be confounded, neither let mine enemies triumph over me.
For all they that hope in thee shall not be ashamed; * but such as transgress without a cause shall be put to confusion.
Show me thy ways, O LORD, * and teach me thy paths.
Lead me forth in thy truth, and learn me: * for thou art the God of my salvation; in thee hath been my hope all the day long.
Call to remembrance, O LORD, thy tender mercies, * and thy loving-kindnesses, which have been ever of old.
O remember not the sins and offences of my youth; * but according to thy mercy think thou upon me, O LORD, for thy goodness.
Gracious and righteous is the LORD; * therefore, will he teach sinners in the way.
Them that are meek shall he guide in judgment; * and such as are gentle, them shall he learn his way.
All the paths of the LORD are mercy and truth, * unto such as keep his covenant and his testimonies.
For thy Name's sake, O LORD, * be merciful unto my sin; for it is great.
What man is he that feareth the LORD? * him shall he teach in the way that he shall choose.
His soul shall dwell at ease, * and his seed shall inherit the land.
The secret of the LORD is among them that fear him; * and he will show them his covenant.
Mine eyes are ever looking unto the LORD; * for he shall pluck my feet out of the net.
Turn thee unto me, and have mercy upon me; * for I am desolate, and in misery.
The sorrows of my heart are enlarged: * O bring thou me out of my troubles.
Look upon my adversity and misery, * and forgive me all my sin.
Consider mine enemies, how many they are; * and they bear a tyrannous hate against me.
O keep my soul, and deliver me: * let me not be confounded, for I have put my trust in thee.
Let perfectness and righteous dealing wait upon me; * for my hope hath been in thee.
Deliver Israel, O God, * out of all his troubles.
Showing posts with label Psalms. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Psalms. Show all posts
Sunday, 20 June 2010
In te, Domine, speravi...
(Psalm 71)... Speravi in Latin (to hope) comes from sparevi, speravi ... which means to be aware of our abilities and character. So "In te Domine, speravi" is to be aware of God's abilities and character. This is what gives us hope. We to often forget to be AWARE that God is the great I Am and we are not.
Hence this hymn: http://www.ccel.org/ccel/watts/psalmshymns.Ps.152.html
In 1719 Isaac Watts wrote this hymn based on Psalm 71
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote the following lines:
Shall we sit idly down and say,
The night hath come; it is no longer day?
The night hath not yet come; we are not quite
Cut off from labor by the failing light;
Something remains for us to do or dare;
Even the oldest tree some fruit may bear.
Hence this hymn: http://www.ccel.org/ccel/watts/psalmshymns.Ps.152.html
In 1719 Isaac Watts wrote this hymn based on Psalm 71
The aged saint's reflection and hope.
My God, my everlasting hope, I live upon thy truth; Thine hands have held my childhood up, And strengthened all my youth. |
My flesh was fashioned by thy power, With all these limbs of mine; And from my mother's painful hour, I've been entirely thine. |
Still has my life new wonders seen Repeated every year; Behold, my days that yet remain, I trust them to thy care. |
Cast me not off when strength declines, When hoary hairs arise; And round me let thy glory shine, Whene'er thy servant dies. |
Then in the hist'ry of my age,
When men review my days,
They'll read thy love in every page,
In every line thy praise.
Shall we sit idly down and say,
The night hath come; it is no longer day?
The night hath not yet come; we are not quite
Cut off from labor by the failing light;
Something remains for us to do or dare;
Even the oldest tree some fruit may bear.
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