Choir for 4 voices
Soprano solo
Alto solo
Tenor solo
Bass solo
Troumpet I + II + III
Bassdrum
Travers fluteI + II
Oboe I + II
(Oboe d`amore I + II)
Taille
Violin I + II
Viola
Basso continuo

United division of strings ever changing,
Of drums ever rolling with piercing report!
Summon the eminent hearers this way,
Tell ye now, with your triumphant glad music
And doubled resources' great sound,
Before my busy and diligent children,
What here the prize for virtue is.



Whom noble instinct drives to that we honor name,
And whose ambitious, eager soul
Desires in that to glory
Which can through art and mind and talent be accomplished,
May he make bold to tread
My path with ever quickened strength and pow'r!
What now the youthful hand, the lively foot doth win
Means that the age'd head in no disgrace and anxious want will waste.
For youthful application's humors
Will one day lift old age's wearied powers,
And those who in their strongest years,---
Or so the idle think,---
In nought but endless toil and constant work are busy,
Will then, when once their goal is reached, with honor filled,
In proud retirement flourish;
For they have found in very fact
That one his rest will rightly savor
If it by bitter sweat is sweetened.

Withdraw your foot though not, retreating,
All ye who do my path elect!
Good fortune marketh all your traces,
And honor counts your bitter paces,
So that, when once the path is finished,
To you will in surpassing measure an equal measure
The prize by them forthwith be paid.

Bass: (Honor) To him alone
Shall this my dwelling open be
Who counts himself amongst thy children;
Who not the primrose path to which him pleasure bids,
But this thy path of thorns electeth.
My laurels shall henceforth alone such heads embellish
In which one may of ever stirring blood,
And ever fearless heart and courage unabashed
For ev'ry labor trace the presence.
Soprano (Happiness): I too would be with all my treasures
Nigh him whom thou dost choose forever present.
I will allot to him a fair and high degree
Of my devotion's honor
Who e'er for self enough, for others ne'er too much
Of all those gifts which are by toil and work accomplished
Doth seek to merit.
Adorn if then the tireless hand
According to my colleague's promise
A rank becoming to its deeds,
That hand shall too the fruit of rich abundance gather.
Thus may we those who are determined
To gain the laurel's rank and station
As well with rapture honor.

Bass (Honor): Him shall my laurels give protection,
Soprano (Happiness): He shall the fruit of blessing savor,
Soprano (Happiness), Bass (Honor): Who through hard work the stars ascend.
Bass (Honor): If dew of sweat should bathe the members,
It falls into the oyster's center,
Where it the favored pearls creates.
Soprano (Happiness): Where'er those heated drops are flowing,
There will a spring from them be welling
And like the streams of blessing flow.

These are not empty words, not vain and groundless expectations,
Which Diligence as your reward hath shown;
Although the stubborn minds of malcontents are hushed
Whene'er, to match their deeds, a just reward confronts them.
Yea,
Show ye then within Astraea's
Temple, which by Diligence was opened up with understanding,
Towards a so much beloved and valued teacher,
Ye, his so very true and obligated students,
For all to witness, an example
In which all spite
At Honor, Bliss, and Work's united front
Must stand amazed.
We cannot let this day
Just merely pass away!
Let through the glow of all the lighted candles
The flames of these your hearts to him devoted
Well-wishers see, as well as men of spite!

Etch ye this great day of honor
In the hardest marble's stone!
No, for time corrupteth stone.
Make, instead, through your own actions
Your professor's work remembered!
If we from the fruits may gather
What the nature of their roots was,
Those roots must immortal be.

Tenor (Diligence): Ye sleepy-heads, come forth!
Behold in this my so belove'd Kortte
That in the words I've spoken
No vain illusion lies concealed.
His yet so tender foot no sooner learned to walk
Than he did tread upon my path,
And, since he did begin his work so early,
No wonder that he could his goal so soon accomplish!
How much he me hath loved,
How eager he hath been within my service
Is in the scholarship of other nations written.
But then, why do I seek to praise him?
Is he not well enough exalted
Whom e'en our mighty sovereign King,--- who, as Augustus, knows the learned,---
Amongst his teachers nameth.
Bass (Honor): Oh yes, ye noble colleagues, see how close to Kortte I'm connected.
For him, ere this, my kindly hand
So many wreathes hath woven.
Now shall his higher rank
Bring him that laurel's service
Which underneath a patron strong will be forever verdant.
Soprano (Happiness): He can as well share in my treasures,
For through your favor he came into my embrace,
When he in proud retirement laughs,
And to his fill takes pleasure.
Alto (Gratitude): Thus all is as I hoped fulfilled,
For such unhoped-for happiness,
My ne'er enough exalted Kortte,
Thy friends' good wishes quells.
Thus doth now one and all upon his oath reflect
And seek for thee through his expression
The fruits of his good will to offer.
Now join, whoe'er an honest friend would be,
In this our song.

Life to Kortte, Kortte flourish!
Whom my laurels give support,
He who in my lap doth sit,
And through me will e'er ascend,
He to whom all hearts incline,
He must for unnumbered years yet
E'er revered midst blessing stand
And, though he see crowds of envy,
Never shall a foe behold.