BWV 159 Sehet! Wir gehn hinauf gen Jerusalem
Estomihi (Quinquagesima Sunday).
Christian Friedrich Henrici (Picander), Ernst-Schertzhaffte
Gedichte, Teil III (Leipzig, 1732); Facs: Neumann T, p.
1. Lk. 18:31; 3. Paul Gerhardt, verse 6 of "O Haupt
voll Blut und Wunden," 1656 (Fischer-Tümpel, III, #467) with
aria; 5. Paul Stockmann, penultimate and 33rd verse of "Jesu
Leiden, Pein und Tod," 1633 (Fischer-Tümpel, II, #37).
Date unknown, perhaps 27 February 1729, Leipzig (Dürr).
BG 32; NBA I/8.
1. Arioso [Dictum] (B)(1) and Recit. (A)
Come, ponder well, my mind,
Where doth thy Jesus go?
We're going up
O cruel path! That way?
O uninviting hill, of all my sins the token!
How bitter wilt thou have to climb it!
Ah, do not go!
Thy cross for thee is now prepared,
Where thou thy bloody death must suffer;
Here do they scourges seek, there, bind the switches;
The bonds now wait for thee;
Ah, take thyself not them to meet!
If thou couldst hold in check thy journey,
I would myself not to Jerusalem,
Ah, sadly down to hell then venture.
2. Aria (A) and Chorale (S)
I follow thy path
I will here by thee tarry,
Through spitting and scorn;
Do not treat me with scorn!(2)
On cross will I once more embrace thee,
From thee I will not venture
As now thy heart doth break.
I will not let thee from my breast,
And when thy head grows pallid
Upon death's final stroke,
And if thou in the end must part,
E'en then will I enfold thee
Thou shalt thy tomb in me discover.
Within my arm's embrace.
3. Recit. (T)
So now I will,
My Jesus, for thy sake
In my own corner sorrow;
The world may ever still
On venom of desire be nurtured,
But I'll restore myself with weeping
And will not sooner yearn
For any joy or pleasure
Til thee my countenance
Have in thy majesty regarded;
Til I through thee have been redeemed;
Where I will find with thee refreshment.
4. Aria (B)
It is fulfilled,
The pain is over,
We are from all our sinful ruin
In God to right restored.
Now will I hasten
And to my Jesus make thanksgiving;
World, fare thee well,
It is fulfilled!
5. Chorale (S, A, T, B)
Jesus, this thy passion
Is my purest pleasure,
All thy wounds, thy crown and scorn,
Are my heart's true pasture;
This my soul on roses walks,
Once I have considered
That in heaven doth a home
To me for this offer.
1. Representing the Vox Christi.
2. Lines 3-4 are transposed in the PT.
© Copyright Z.
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