Choir for 4 voices
Soprano solo
Alto solo
Tenor solo
Bass solo
Horn da caccia I + II
Oboe d`amore I + II
Oboe I + II
Violin I + II
Viola
Basso continuo

Let us tend him, let us watch him,
This our charge, the gods' own son.
For our throne
Will, though earthly,
Be transformed with light and glory,
For our throne
Will a thing of wonder make him.


And where, where is the proper road
By which the now implanted drive,
Which virtue, glory, laud and honor love,
To its true purpose I may lead?
Good sense, good wit and light
To hunt for all of this are eager.
Ye slender crossways, could ye not
Advice or guidance offer?

Slumber, my darling, and tend to thy rest,
Follow the call of thy thoughts' ardent pleasure.
Passion now taste
Of thy wanton breast
And pay homage none to measure.

Soprano (Vice): Come! Follow this my road,
Where I thee free of weight and force
With gentle footsteps shall be leading.
Already charm doth take the lead
And roses in thy path is spreading.
Do not delay! This is the easy course,
A pleasure for thy choosing!
Tenor (Virtue): Where to, my Hercules, where bent?
Thou wilt the proper path be losing!
Through virtue, work and toil
Exalted is a fine intent.
Soprano (Vice): Who would prefer sweat's moil
Who in soft easiness
And frolicsome contentedness
Could gain himself his true salvation?
Tenor (Virtue): That is, corrupt his true salvation!

Faithful Echo of these places,
Shall I through words' false caresses
From sweet guidance go astray?
Give to me thine answer: Nay!
(Echo) Nay!
Or would this stern exhortation,
Which to so much toil doth press,
Better lay my path's formation?
Ah, then answer rather: Yes!
(Echo) Yes!

My hero, full of hope,
To whom, indeed, I'm kin,
In whom I dwell innate,
Come here and take me by the hand
And hear my faithful exhortation,
Which makes thy fathers' reputation
A mirror in thy vision's scope.
I'll hold thee close and feel anon
The willing youth devoted to my service.
Thou art in truth my son,
I, Virtue, am thy source and mistress.

Upon my wings shalt thou be lifted,
Upon my pinions thou shalt rise,
An eagle to the starry skies.
And through me
Shall thy light and glory be
To perfection's state exalted.

Soft Vice's call indeed is strong;
But still,
Who knows not the great risks
Which realm and heroes smite;
O temptress, who is unaware
That thou long now and evermore,
As long as time shall deem it right,
From this our gods' great throng
Must always in rejection dwell?

I will never heed thee, I will never know thee,
O decadent Vice, thy face I know not!
For the serpents
Which within the cradle sought me
Have I long since dealt destruction, dismembered.

Alto (Hercules): Belove'd Virtue, thou alone
Shalt now my leader be
Continually.
Where thou dost bid, there will I go,
I'll choose this as my rule of conduct.
Tenor (Virtue): And I will unto thee
So firm and so steadfast be wedded,
That, if we e'er should part,
No one shall recognize my nature.
Alto (Hercules), Tenor (Virtue): Who would so strong a union sever?

Alto (Hercules): I am thine now,
Tenor (Virtue): Thou art mine now,
Alto (Hercules), Tenor (Virtue): Kiss me then,
I'll kiss thee then.
As when lovers give their promise,
Like the joy which they discover,
True and soft and full of zeal,
This I feel.

Gods, witness here the image now
Of Saxony's Prince Friedrich's youthtide!
His lively course of years
Awakes amazement even now in all.
Where'er he walks, his virtues bide.
Mark how the faithful land with gladness is instilled,
When it the flight of this young eagle sees,
When it this brilliant diamond sees,
And when its Prince, so full of hope,
Doth bloom in universal bliss.
Mark also though the Muses' glad procession
And listen to their song's elation:

Choir (Choir of Muses): Joy of nations, joy of country,
Flourish, gracious Friederich!
Bass (Mercury): Thine own virtue's worthiness
Is for glory now prepared,
And thy time
Is most anxious to be present:
Hasten, my Friedrich, it waiteth for thee!