Dear and trusty Deliverer, Jesus Christ, I know in my necessity and
pains no whither to flee to but to Thee, my Saviour, who hast suffered
for me, and hast called unto all ailing and miserable ones, "Come unto
Me, all ye who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest."
Oh, relieve me, also, of Thy love and kindness, stretch out Thy healing
and almighty hand, and restore me to health. Free me with Thy aid from
my wounds and my pains, and console me with Thy grace who art
vouchsafed to heal the broken heart, and to console all the sorrowful
ones. Dost Thou take pleasure in our destruction? Our groaning touches
Thee to the heart, and those whom Thou hast cast down Thou wilt lift up
again. In Thee, Lord Jesus, I put my trust; I will not cease to
importune Thee that Thou bringest me not to shame. Help me, save me, so
I will praise Thee for ever. Amen.
Alas for Gretchen and her brood! The 4th of December has dawned, and
still Hans lies unfound in the corrie of the vineberg. He has no pain
now, for his shattered limb has been numbed by the cruel frost. His
eyes are waxing dim and he feels the end near at hand. The foul raven
of the battlefield croaks above him in his enfeebled loneliness,
impatient for its meal. The grim king of terrors is very close to thee,
poor honest soldier of the Fatherland; but thou canst face him as
boldly as thou hast faced the foe, with the help of the little book of
which thy frost-chilled fingers have never lost the grip. The gruesome
bird falls back as thou murmurest the prayer