C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Under the Pressure of Care or Poverty

By Hans Sachs (1494–1576)

WHY art thou cast down, my heart?

Why troubled, why dost mourn apart,

O’er naught but earthly wealth?

Trust in thy God; be not afraid:

He is thy Friend, who all things made.

Dost think thy prayers he doth not heed?

He knows full well what thou dost need,

And heaven and earth are his;

My Father and my God, who still

Is with my soul in every ill.

Since thou my God and Father art,

I know thy faithful loving heart

Will ne’er forget thy child;

See, I am poor; I am but dust;

On earth is none whom I can trust.

The rich man in his wealth confides,

But in my God my trust abides;

Laugh as ye will, I hold

This one thing fast that he hath taught,—

Who trusts in God shall want for naught….

Yes, Lord, thou art as rich to-day

As thou hast been and shalt be aye:

I rest on thee alone;

Thy riches to my soul be given,

And ’tis enough for earth and heaven.

What here may shine I all resign,

If the eternal crown be mine,

That through thy bitter death

Thou gainedst, O Lord Christ, for me:

For this, for this, I cry to thee!

All wealth, all glories, here below,

The best that this world can bestow,

Silver or gold or lands,

But for a little time is given,

And helps us not to enter heaven.

I thank thee, Christ, Eternal Lord,

That thou hast taught me by thy word

To know this truth and thee;

Oh, grant me also steadfastness

Thy heavenly kingdom not to miss.

Praise, honor, thanks, to thee be brought,

For all things in and for me wrought

By thy great mercy, Christ.

This one thing only still I pray,—

Oh, cast me ne’er from thee away.

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