Text
Arie: Bass solo
Violin
I + II
Viola
Basso continuo
Recitative: Tenor solo
Oboe
d`amore I + II
Basso continuo
Aria: Tenor solo
Oboe
d`amore I + II
Basso continuo
Rezitativ: Bass solo
Basso continuo
Arie (Duett): Soprano solo, Alto solo
Basso continuo
Chorale: Soprano, Alto, Tenor, Bass
Oboe
d`amore I + II
Violin
I + II
Viola
Basso continuo
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Make a reck'ning! (1.) Thund'rous word,
Which e'en rocky cliffs split open,
Word by which my blood grows frigid!
Day of reck'ning! Soul, go forth!
Ah, thou must God make repayment
Of his blessings, life and body.
Make a reck'ning! Thund'rous word!
All is but borrowed wealth
That I through out my life am holding;
Soul, being, will and blood
And post and rank, all by my God are given;
They are mine to care for
And ever faithfully to manage,
From lofty hands received in trust.
Ah! Oh alas! I shake
Whenever I my conscience enter
And then in my accounts so many errors witness!
I have both day and night
The many things which God hath lent me
Indiff'rently consumed!
How can I thee, O God of right, escape then?
I cry aloud and weep:
Ye mountains, fall! Ye hills, conceal me now (2.)
From God's own wrathful judgment
And from the flash of his own countenance!
Principal and interest also,
These my debts, both large and small,
Must one day be reckoned all.
All for which I'm yet indebted
Is in God's own book now written
As in steel and adamant.
But yet, O frightened heart, live and despair thou not!
Step gladly 'fore the court!
And if thy conscience should convict thee,
Thou must be here constrained to silence;
Behold thy guarantor,
He hath all debts for thee released!
It is repaid and fully wiped away
What thou, O man, thy reck'ning art still owing;
The lamb's own blood, O love most mighty!,
Hath all thy debt now canceled
And thee with God hath settled.
It is repaid, thy balance cleared!
And meanwhile,
Since thou know'st
That thou a steward art,
Thus be concerned and ever mindful
That thou make prudent use of Mammon
To benefit the poor;
Thus shalt thou, when both time and life have ended,
In heaven's shelter rest secure.
Heart, break free of Mammon's fetters,
Hands now, scatter good abroad!
Make ye soft my dying pallet,
Build for me a solid house,
Which in heaven ever bideth
When earth's wealth to dust is scattered.
Make me strong with thy Spirit's joy,
Heal me with thine own wounding,
Wash me with thine own dying sweat
In mine own final hours;
And take me then, whene're thou wilt,
In true believing from the world
To thine own chosen people.
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