- Nun lob mein Seel den Herren, BuxWV 214-215
[9:5] (A=465)
Four sections, all in 3/2 meter. The first is on the Hauptwerk with the Chorale in the Pedal; the second is on the Oberwerk without Pedal; the third
is on a fuller Hauptwerk without Pedal; and the fourth is on the Hauptwerk with the Oberwerk coupled with Chorale appearing on the Pedal coupled to
the Hauptwerk. The last section is only three voices, as opposed to four voices for all the others, and includes a brief section in slow triplets. It
is unknown to me why it is incomplete and why it takes two numbers in the catalog.
Instrument:
Gottfried Silbermann Organ, St. Georgenkirche - Rötha, Germany (1721) -
Samples by Brett Milan
- Chorale Text
German:
1. Nun lob, mein' Seel', den Herren,
Was in mir ist, den Namen sein!
Sein' Wohltat tut er mehren,
Vergiß es nicht, o Herze mein!
Hat dir dein' Sünd' vergeben
Und heilt dein' Schwachheit groß,
Errett't dein armes Leben,
Nimmt dich in seinen Schoß,
Mit rechtem Trost beschüttet,
Verjüngt dem Adler gleich.
Der Kön'g schafft Recht, behütet,
Die leiden in sein'm Reich.
2. Er hat uns wissen lassen
Sein herrlich Recht und sein Gericht,
Dazu sein' Güt' ohn' Maßen,
Es mangelt an Erbarmung nicht.
Sein'n Zorn läßt er wohl fahren,
Straft nicht nach unsrer Schuld,
Die Gnad' tut er nicht sparen,
Den Blöden ist er hold.
Sein Güt' ist hoch erhaben
Ob den'n, die fürchten ihn.
So fern der Ost vom Abend,
Ist unsre Sünd' dahin.
3. Wie sich ein Mann erbarmet
Über sein' junge Kinderlein,
So tut der Herr uns Armen,
So wir ihn kindlich fürchten rein.
Er kennt das arm' Gemächte
Und weiß, wir sind nur Staub,
Gleichwie das Gras, von Rechte,
Ein' Blum' und fallend Laub,
Der Wind nur drüber wehet,
So ist es nimmer da:
Also der Mensch vergehet,
Sein End', das ist ihm nah.
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English:
1. My soul, now bless thy Maker!
Let all within me bless His name
Who maketh thee partaker
Of mercies more than thou dar'st claim.
Forget Him not whose meekness
Still bears with all thy sin,
Who healeth all thy weakness,
Renews thy life within;
Whose grace and care are endless
And saved thee through the past;
Who leaves no sufferer friendless,
But rights the wronged at last.
2. He shows to man His treasure
Of judgment, truth, and righteousness,
His love beyond all measure,
His yearning pity o'er distress,
Nor treats us as we merit,
But lays His anger by,
The humble, contrite spirit
Finds His compassion nigh;
And high as heaven above us,
As break from close of day,
So far, since He doth love us,
He puts our sins away.
3. For as a tender father
Hath pity on his children here,
He in His arms will gather
All who are His in childlike fear.
He knows how frail our powers
Who but from dust are made;
We flourish like the fowers,
And even so we fade;
The wind but o'er them passes,
And all their bloom is o'er,-
We wither like the grasses,
Our place knows us no more.
--Text: Psalm 103,Translated by: Catherine Winkworth, 1863
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Audio track was created with Hauptwerk v. 1 software
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