Here is my translation of the Pentecost hymn, “Schmückt das Fest mit Maien” (B. Schmolck, 1715), a Whitsunday hymn referencing the traditional decoration of churches with the new summer greens and (wild)flowers (Maien) in wreaths and garlands, in accordance with Luther’s translation of Psalm 118. It should be distinguished from the author’s less familiar, earlier Whit Tuesday hymn “Schmückt das Fest mit grünen Maien” (Der lustige Sabbath, 1712), which begins with the same allusion but otherwise treats the Tuesday gospel. Miss Winkworth’s translation from 1855, included below, omits stanza 4 and takes the iambic meter 668.668.888.
Mel.: Jesu, meine Freude
DECK the festal morning {or Deck with festal flowers}
All with flow’rs adorning; {Hallowed halls and bowers;}
Fitting off’rings pay!
For the gracious Spirit
Comes; all ye that hear it,
Clear for Him the way!
Welcome Him, / whose heav’nly gleam
Hearts with light and healing filleth
And all sorrow stilleth.
2 Couns’lor of the grieving,
Seal of saints believing,
Spirit wise and strong!
God’s almighty Finger,
Heaven’s Concord-bringer,
Righting every wrong!
Grant Thy pow’r / in us to flow’r,
Give us of Thy boundless favor
Thy good gifts to savor.
3 Let each tongue be flaming
When the Savior naming;
Lift our minds on high;
Help us, prayer’s Author,
To implore the Father,
Speak with heav’nly sigh;
Oh, impart / a bolder heart,
And the strength the church is craving
While the foe is raving!
4 Brilliant Light, be showing,
Fountain clear, be flowing,
Fill our mind and sense!
Gracious Oil, enliven;
Magnet-like to heaven
Draw us up from hence!
Build Thee here / Thy temple dear,
Fire Thy hearth with kindling blessed
Where God is confessèd.
5 Rain of heaven precious,
Pour Thy blessings gracious
O’er the church’s ground;
Spread Thy streams bedewing,
All the land renewing
Where Thy Word is found.
Let it swell / and prosper well,
Fruit a hundredfold deriving,
And forever thriving.
6 Send Thy flame to stoke us,
Fire of Love, and yoke us
In true brotherhood:
Let Thy breath caressing
Also bring us blessing,
Curbing flesh and blood;
Set us free / that we may flee
From sin’s yoke, and hell and devil,
And from every evil.
7 Grant us to be willing
And therewith fulfulling
All that pleaseth God;
In our soul residing,
In our heart abiding,
Make us Thine abode.
Pledge most dear! / Let us know here
Jesus rightly as our Brother,
And call God our Father.
8 All our crosses sweeten,
Let the dark be beaten
Back by Thee, our Light!
Wings of faith prepare us,
Unto Zion bear us,
Through our mortal flight.
When life ends, / and death impends,
Then in joyful faith sustain us,
And the vict’ry gain us!
9 Now mid ills besetting,
Keep us from forgetting
We are in God’s hand;
Let us serve Him ever,
Flow’ring in good favor,
As a fruitful land,
Till we there, / O Refuge fair,
Mid the summer flow’rs of heaven
Endless joys are given!
Translation © 2025 Matthew Carver.
WINKWORTH
Come, deck our feast today
With flowers and wreaths of May,
And bring an offering pure and sweet;
The Spirit of all grace
Makes earth His dwelling-place,
Prepare your hearts your Lord to meet;
Receive Him, and He shall outpour
Such light, all hearts with joy run o'er,
And sound of tears is heard no more.
2 Thou harbinger of peace,
Who makest sorrows cease,
Wisdom in word and deed is Thine;
Strong hand of God, Thy seal
The loved of Jesus feel;
Pure light, o'er all our pathway shine!
Give vigorous life and healthy powers,
O let Thy sevenfold gifts be ours,
Refresh us with Thy gracious showers!
3 O touch our tongues with flame,
When speaking Jesu's name!
And lead us up the heavenward road.
Give us the power to pray,
Teach us what words to say,
Whene'er we come before our God.
O Highest Good, our spirits cheer,
When raging foes are strong and near,
Give us brave hearts undimmed by fear.
5 O golden rain from heaven!
Thy precious dews be given
To bless the churches' barren field!
And let Thy waters flow,
Where'er the sowers sow,
The seed of truth, that it may yield
A hundred-fold its living fruit,
O'er all the land may take deep root,
And mighty branches heavenward shoot.
6 Thou fiery glow of Love!
Let us Thy ardours prove,
Consume our hearts with quenchless fire!
Come, O Thou trackless Wind!
Breathe gently o'er our mind!
Nor let the flesh to rule aspire;
Help us our free-born right to take,
The heavy yoke of sin to break,
And all her tempting paths forsake.
7 Be it Thine to stir our will;
Our good intents fulfil;
Be with us when we go and come;
Deep in our spirits dwell,
And make their inmost cell
Thy temple pure, Thy holy home!
Teach us to know our Lord, that we
May call His Father ours through Thee,
Thou Pledge of glories yet to be!
8 Oh make our crosses sweet,
And let Thy sunshine greet
Our longing eyes in clouded hours!
Wing Thou our upward flight
Toward yonder mountain bright,
Girded about with Zion's golden towers!
Forsake us not when our last foe
Puts forth his strength to lay us low,
Then joyful victory bestow!
9 Let us, while here we dwell,
This one thought ponder well,
That in God's likeness we are made.
As o'er a fruitful land
Rich harvests waving stand,
We, serving Him, bear fruits that never fade,
Till Thou in whom all comfort lies,
Lift us to fields above the skies,
And bid us bloom in Paradise!
GERMAN
Schmückt das Fest mit Maien,
lasset Blumen streuen,
zündet Opfer an;
denn der Geist der Gnaden
hat sich eingeladen,
machet ihm die Bahn.
Nehmt ihn ein, / so wird sein Schein
euch mit Licht und Heil erfüllen,
und den Kummer stillen.
2 Tröster der Betrübten,
Siegel der Geliebten,
Geist voll Rath und That,
starker Gottesfinger,
Friedensüberbringer,
unser Advokat,
gib uns Kraft / und Lebenssaft,
laß uns deine theure Gaben
nach Vergnügen laben.
3 Laß die Zungen brennen,
wenn wir Jesum nennen,
führ den Geist empor.
Gib uns Kraft zu beten,
und vor Gott zu treten,
sprich uns selbsten vor.
Gib uns Muth, / du höchstes Gut,
tröst uns kräftiglich von oben
bei der Feinde Toben.
4 Helles Licht, erleuchte,
klarer Brunn, befeuchte
unser Herz und Sinn.
Gnadenöl, erquicke,
dein Magnet entz¨¨cke
bis zum Himmel hin,
baue dir / den Tempel hier,
daß dein Herd und Feuer brennet,
wo man Gott bekennet.
5 Güldner Himmelsregen,
schütte deinen Segen
auf das Kirchenfeld.
Lasse Ströme fliessen,
die das Land begiessen,
wo dein Wort hinfällt,
und verleih, / daß es gedeih,
hundertfältig Früchte bringe,
un ihm stets gelinge.
6 Schlage deine Flammen
über uns zusammen,
wahre Liebesgluth,
laß dein sanftes Wehen
auch bei uns geschehen,
dämpfe Fleisch und Blut.
Laß uns doch / das Sündenjoch
nicht mehr wie vor diesem ziehen
und das Böse fliehen.
7 Gib zu allen Dingen
Wollen und Vollbringen,
führ uns ein und aus.
Wohn in unser Seele,
und des Herzens Höhle
sei dein eigen Haus.
Werthes Pfand, / mach uns bekannt,
wie wir Jesum recht erkennen,
und Gott Vater nennen.
8 Mach das Kreuze süße,
und im Finsternisse,
sei du unser Licht,
trag nach Zions Hügeln
uns mit Glaubensflügeln,
und verlaß uns nicht,
wenn der Tod / die letzte Noth,
mit uns will zu Felde liegen,
daß wir fröhlich siegen.
9 Laß uns hier indessen
nimmermehr vergessen,
daß wir Gott verwandt.
Dem laß uns stets dienen
und im guten grünen
als ein fruchtbar Land,
bis wir dort, / du werther Hort,
bei der grünen Himmelsmaien
ewig uns erfreuen.
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