Choir for 4 voices
Soprano solo
Alto solo
Tenor solo
Travers flute
Oboe d`amore
Violin I + II
Viola
Basso continuo

Now gladness doth arise, doth raise the lively music,
For this most lovely day hath no one left unstirred.
Pursue our wish, be quick, ye loyal sons of muses,
And pay in full the toll of your good wishes now!


Ye see how the good fortune
Of our revered Rivin through its familiar glances
At this occasion's happy hour
Is for his house's weal renewed.
For blessing crowneth all the labors
Which our fond jurist hath so much advantage brought.
And all this blessing doth through its own mighty pow'r
Make woe and all distress flee from his very presence.

From God's own gentle hands paternal
Flows this his children's happiness.
He can both truth and goodness give us,
He gives us more than we imagine
And better than we understand.

Thy friends are most content
This feast and day of praise to witness;
They can, indeed, their hopes on certain grounds establish,
Upon his grace, who wisely all directs,
Whose many tests have shown already
That this most godly man a thousand times hath praised him.
What? May we also be in his good fortune glad?
Disdain us not, thou good and kind Rivin,
If we as well take pains
And cause here now, to pay thee honor,
E'en our own songs to echo.

That favor which thy God doth grant
And which on thee today doth fall
Makes thy most welcome happiness
For us shine too.


If now the world doth to thy glory tend,
Which through thy learne'd labor e'er to grow is wont,
If thine own righteousness a worthy model giveth
How one his neighbor serves and God thereby yet loveth,
If thine own noble house upon thy forethought stands,
Through which as well the poor it helps,
We witness this but with admiring awe,
For our own poverty can nothing higher dare.

With tender and contented feelings
We honor thy dear graciousness.
If echo, though, could once a song,
Which thee from mortal state could free,
We are for this as well prepared.

Choir: What good fortune we have wished thee,
We would wish thee ten times more.
Tenor: Oh yes! This thou hast earned:
Who thee from thy repute doth know
Transgression's scourge doth name,
But of the righteous the defense and shield,
Who doth all need and woe defy.
Thee shall no misfortune torment,
Nought for thine own welfare lacking.
Alto: May all thy house
Now like a temple seem,
Where one more praise than anxious sighing hears,
In which no harm its sweet repose disturbs.
All this joy delights too much,
More than we have pow'r to utter.
Soprano: Thus wilt thou, honored Sir, forgive us
If meanwhile we, who trust our teacher's faith,
Ourselves with him at this thy feast take pleasure;
And too, that we be bound
No more good wishes here to speak.
What good fortune we have wished thee,
We would wish thee ten times more.