# Der Lutheraner_St. Louis Missouri_1851 11 11_S47
# AI translation — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

47

Hail to thee, Star of the sea
Ever Virgin, and sublime
Holy Mother of God,
Blessed Gate of Heaven.

There you see the whole Roman leaven rising in its full bloom! We leave to the society its "Star of the Sea" and hold in faith to the Star that is risen out of Jacob, follow its heavenly light and say with comforted courage:

Comfort thee only, that thy cause
Is God's, to Him commit the vengeance
And let Him rule it ill,
He will through His Gideon,
Whom He well knows, help thee indeed,
Preserve thee and His Word.

But one thing we can learn from it after all: that we also should not fail to gather ourselves with one accord around the banner of our faith and churchly confession. Are we not at least put to shame by the zeal with which the Catholic society gathers and unites itself! So let us then take our stand upon the biblically pure, firm, evangelical ground of faith of the Reformation, and stand upon it, clothed with the armor of light. Let us continue in the apostles' doctrine, in fellowship, in prayer and the breaking of bread, and confess ourselves with humility and faith to the confession of the Lutheran Church, whose servants and members we are by the grace of Jesus Christ. Do you hear? Should not our heart also rise within us, that we may confess: I am a Lutheran? — May God grant it! —

Of Chrysantus and Daria, the Two Martyrs.

To the scene of triumphs, to the lofty Capitol,
Comes from the Nile Polemius, full of Alexandrian pride.

Rich in servants, rich in dignities, rich in silver and in gold
And in his arms he bears a fair young boy.

There in Rome at the seat of the emperor Chrysant grew up to youth;
Sees how holy martyrs died, gathers learning in abundance,

Serves the gods, asks the priests, is his father's crown and glory.
Behold, there he unrolls it, the heathen, once the Gospel!

Reads there, reads with wonder; — a new world arises for him,
Light shines upon him wondrously and the heathen darkness falls.

And a longing for holy Baptism lends him wings.
Whither has the murderers' fury driven the saints?

There, where in the cliffs of the rocks nothing frightens the quiet owlet,
Where Carpophorus the priest hides from the wrath of the foes:

There Chrysantus has the secret of his salvation fully unveiled;
And he returns different from what he was when he went.

But alas, Polemius perceives that a change has taken place,
Not as formerly and always is Chrysantus to be seen.

He honors not the gods as before, — holy, mild and wondrous
Is the youth, and a stranger to those to whom he was once a son.

And the father, full of grief, follows now the counsel of his friend,
Behold the banquet, at which a circle of maidens sits down.

"O Chrysantus, choose one, choose her who seems the dearest,
"None, among all, none, O Chrysant, be denied thee."

But deep in his heart the youth fervently calls upon the Lord,
What happens? Suddenly a deathly stillness began:

Behold, the maidens, they all sank into a deep sleep,
None ate and none touched him with a false charm.

New snares, alas, Polemius laid for his pious son.
Daria, gifted above thousands with the sweet tone of speech,

Is sent to carry him home with her beauty and her clever mind,
As one plucks a rose, as a prize.

Daria with the golden mouth, Daria so fair and clever,
Daria forgets the enchanting tone and flight of words.

At Chrysant's admonishing the flow of her devised speech dies.
So no image of silver is transformed by the new casting.

What things! both speak, here Chrysant, there Daria,
And their word quickly becomes a fountain of life to many far and near.

Daily crowds rise from the font out of heathendom.
No one can quench this fire, no one the power of this water.

And the praetor seizes Chrysant in fury and puts him in fetters,
And torturers take pains with choice torments.

Daria, the noble, the pure, is dragged into the house of shame;
O ye poor saints, the shroud is being woven for you.

But behold! A strong lion, just escaped from the garden,
Lays himself down before her door, scares away the bold foot,

Until fire was kindled at his sides to frighten him,
Then he withdrew: and Daria is now condemned to death.

O Chrysant, whither goest thou? — What blooms upon thy head? —
O Daria, and thou also? — Is it blood? — Ah, can they be flowers? —

Ah, the red martyrs' crowns! — Ah, ah, who sees this sight!
And the stones flew violently and the holy pair expired.

The following is one of the hymns of the
late Pastor Reißner,
which could not be printed with the others in the last number for lack of space:

The King above the vault of heaven,
He says: Go ye into all the world.
And preach my name.
Baptize those bought with my blood,
Sprinkle them with the flood of grace,
What springs from sinful seed.
This bath,
Full of grace,
Blots out sins, they vanish, heals from the Fall,
Cleanses and blesses all.

All power is given unto me,
In heaven and on earth resounds
The thunder of my honor
Goes through the world, I am with you,
I found, I tend my kingdom myself
Proclaim joyfully the doctrine,
Which ye
From me
Have received, to obtain light from the Spirit,
Who gives you help and support.

Go forth confidently, I am with you
I, who am rich over all,
Of the world, of heaven the King.
Who has endued you with power,
Who makes a way for you into hearts,
That they be subject to me.
With you
Am I
Alway, as I say, even unto the end
Of the course of the world.

Lord Jesus, see, I also go forth,
Fill thou my heart and mind
With powers from on high!
Lead me to hearts that are ready
To behold that glory
Which I in thee, Lord, see.
Thy Word,
My Rock,
Let me praise, show power, that it may kindle,
Overcome many hearts.

Pour upon me, Lord, the spirit of joy,
Which thy Word otherwise calls the anointing!
Let me now receive it.
Hallow the powers of body and soul,
Create in me a new heart, a new tongue,
Let me cling only to thee.
In the hour
Make known,
When I teach what honors thee, what profits,
When the host comes together.

Keep me from pride and fame
When I thy Gospel