The Silent Forest
June 1, 2019: Our Mother of Consolation Catholic Church, Philadelphia
June 2, 2019: Old Saint Joseph’s Church, Philadelphia
Sam Barge, Sonja Bontrager, Cory Davis, Lucas DeJesus, Conrad Erb, Joshua Glassman, Amy Hochstetler, Michael Johnson, Elissa Kranzler, Nathan Lofton, Cortlandt Matthews, Jessica Matthews, Hank Miller, Erina Pearlstein, John Piccolini, Rebekah Reddi, Jordan Rock, Lizzy Schwartz, Melinda Steffy, Emily Sung, Caroline Winschel, Michele Zuckman
Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland Samuel Scheidt (1587-1654)
Wie lang, o Gott Hieronymous Praetorius (1560-1629)
Nachtwache I Johannes Brahms (1833-1987)
Nachtwache II
Sechs Geistliche Leider Hugo Wolf (1860-1903)
Aufblich
Einkehr
Resignation
Letzte Bitte
Ergebung
Erhebung
Lockung Fanny Hensel (1805-1847)
Abendlich schon rauscht der Wald
Litanei vom Hauch Hanns Eisler (1898-1962)
Vier doppelchörige Gesänge Robert Schumann (1810-1856)
An die Sterne
Ungewisses Licht
Zuversicht
Talismane
The Silent Forest is a meditation on sacred and secular German music, featuring works that span the 16th through the 20th centuries. Throughout this program, we explore two primary themes: spirituality and nature.
We start our spiritual voyage with a hymn by Samuel Sheidt (1587-1654) that celebrates the coming of Jesus. A piece by Hieronymus Praetorius (1560-1629) echoes this yearning in a more desperate tone and begs for mercy and patience as the world waits for its savior. The spiritual character of our program shifts to a more romantic mood with Johannes Brahms’s (1833-1897) Nachtwache compositions. The text requests that we open a loving heart; “And if none opens, [we allow] the night wind [to] carry [us away].”
We would like to think that this phrase foreshadows the passage that inspired the very title of our program. Taken from Hugo Wolf’s (1960-1903) Sechs Geistliche Lieder, the following excerpt depicts the night as a haven from the wearying day:
O comfort of the world, you silent night!
The day has made me so tired,
The wide sea is already dark,
Let rest from lust and distress,
Until that eternal dawn
The silent forest is shining through.
These words were penned by Prussian poet Joseph von Eichendorff. His poems have been set to music by many, including Schumann, Brahms, and Hensel—three of the composers featured on today’s program.
In fact, the themes from von Eichendorff’s poetry carry through to the second half of our program, which explores nature—a familiar theme in Romantic music, art, and literature. In Fanny Hensel’s (1805-1847) Lockung and Abendlich schon rauscht der Wald, von Eichendorff refers to the forest yet again, but this time, the woodland is not so silent. The poet illustrates sounds and scents of the forest that seem to intensify in the moonlight.
Next, we turn to composer Hanns Eisler with text by Bertolt Brecht. This duo collaborated on many works, including Litanei vom Hauch. Again, the text is descriptive of a silent forest with “not a breath in the trees”—a calm depiction meant to juxtapose against the horrors of human existence. We close our program with Robert Schumann’s Vier doppelchörige Gesänge. As you listen to the lush texture of Schumann’s double-choir setting, keep in mind this passage from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, who provided the text for the fourth movement, Talismane: “In breathing, there are two graces, breathing in and breathing out. One constrains us and the other refreshes us; this is how wonderfully life is mixed.”
Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland
Born in Halle, Germany in 1587, Samuel Scheidt became one of the most prominent composers of the early Baroque era. Like most composers of the day, he served as music director at multiple churches, including Halle’s famed Market Church. His compositional style is most known for variation and syncopation. Set for double choir, Nun komm, der Heiden Heilandcelebrates the coming of Jesus. The source material, Veni redemptor gentium, was translated by Martin Luther during the Reformation.
Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland,
der Jungfrauen Kind erkannt,
des sich wundert alle Welt,
Gott solch Geburt ihm bestellt.
Now come, Savior of the gentiles,
recognized as the child of the Virgin,
so that all the world is amazed.
Wie lang, o Gott
Like Samuel Scheidt, Hieronymus Praetorius was a compositional influencer during the early Baroque period. Though he had no relation to the more famous Michael Praetorius (the composer of Lo, how a rose e’er blooming), his works were among the first written in north Germany in the progressive Venetian style.
Wie lang, o Gott, in meiner Not
willt lassen mich?
Erbarme dich über dein Knecht,
der Gnad begehrt und nicht das Recht.
Verzag, Herz, nicht, Gott wird dein Bitt'
erhören bald,
er hat Gewalt zu rechter Zeit,
sein Hülf er allen Frommen gibt.
How long, o God,
will you leave me in my affliction?
Have pity on your servant,
who desires mercy and not justice.
Despair not, heart, for God will soon
hear your prayer.
He has power at the proper time
he gives his help to all the righteous.
Nachtwache I & II
Johannes Brahms was one of the most prominent composers of the Romantic era. He combined his reverence for traditional music structures with harmonic innovations, providing a compositional model for other composers without abandoning past methods. Both Nachtwache pieces set stanzas of a poem by Friedrich Rückert and were composed concurrently with Brahms’s choral-orchestral masterpiece, Ein deutches Requiem (A German Requiem). In the first piece, the speaker sends their declaration of love upon the night-wind to their love interest, and declares that if it is unrequited, they will move on resolutely and confidently. The antiphonal, overlapping harmonies illustrate the night-wind’s sighs. The second piece employs large leaps in the voices to depict the horns of watchmen announcing the end of the day.
Nachtwache I
Leise Töne der Brust, geweckt vom Odem der Liebe,
Hauchet zitternd hinaus,
ob sich euch öffn' ein Ohr,
Öffn' ein liebendes Herz, und wenn sich keines euch öffnet,
Trag' ein Nachtwind euch seufzend in meines zurück.
Quiet sounds of the breast (heart), awakened from the breath of love,
Breathe, tremblingly, forth/out.
If you open an ear,
Open a loving heart,
And if none opens to you,
Let the night wind carry you, sighing, back to me.
Nachtwache II
Ruh'n sie? Rufet das Horn des Wächters drüben aus Westen,
Und aus Osten das Horn rufet entgegen: Sie ruh'n!
Hörst du, zagendes Herz, die flüsternden Stimmen der Engel?
Lösche die Lampe getrost, hülle in Frieden dich ein.
Are they resting? The horn of the watchman calls from the West.
And from the East the horn calls a reply: They rest!
Do you hear, apprehensive heart, the whispering voices of angels?
Extinguish the lamp confidently, and cover yourself in peace.
Sechs Geistliche Leider
Hugo Wolf’s Sechs Geistliche Lieder is a cycle of six sacred, unaccompanied songs for SATB chorus, all of which are set to poems by the great German Romantic writer and literary critic Joseph von Eichendorff. Completed in 1881, Sechs Geistliche Lieder was written around the time that Wolf’s fiancée, Vally Franck, broke off their engagement, plunging the composer into despair. This traumatic event may have contributed to the existentialism and profound sense of loss expressed in his music. Each piece in this cycle reflects upon the speaker’s longing for meaning, comfort, and eternity in the face of death and mortality. Despite near-constant homophony and relatively simplistic rhythmic writing, each work in this set is marked by distinct color and complexity. Wolf’s rich, intensely chromatic harmonies bring each piece on a winding—sometimes disorienting—journey through many keys, before eventually concluding definitively in its home key. Though each of the six pieces stands well on its own, they were likely meant to be performed together as a set. The final piece closes simply and quietly in C major on the word “prayer,” which encapsulates the final refuge for the speaker’s despair.
I. Aufblick
Vergeht mir der Himmel von Staube schier
Herr, im Getümmel zeig' dein Panier!
Wie schwank' ich sündlich, lässt du von mir:
unüberwindlich bin ich mit dir!
The sky of dust almost goes by
Lord, in the fray show your banner!
How do I sway astray?
I'm invincible with you!
II. Einkehr
Weil jetzo alles stille ist
und alle Menschen schlafen,
mein' Seel' das ew'ge Licht begrüßt,
ruht wie ein Schiff im Hafen.
Der falsche Fleiß, die Eitelkeit,
was keinen mag erlaben,
darin der Tag das Herz zerstreut,
liegt alles tief begraben.
Ein andrer König wundergleich
mit königlichen Sinnen,
zieht herrlich ein im stillen Reich,
besteigt die ew'gen Zinnen.
Now that all is quiet
and everyone asleep,
my soul greets the eternal light
and rests like a ship in harbor.
Misplaced industriousness, vanity,
which bring nobody solace
but distract the heart by day,
lie buried deep.
Another king, a wondrous one,
whose spirit is truly royal,
enters the silent kingdom in majesty,
climbs the eternal battlements.
III. Resignation
Komm, Trost der Welt, du stille Nacht!
Wie steigst du von den Bergen sacht,
Die Lüfte alle schlafen,
Ein Schiffer nur noch, wandermüd',
Singt übers Meer sein Abendlied
Zu Gottes Lob im Hafen.
Die Jahre wie die Wolken gehn
Und lassen mich hier einsam stehn,
Die Welt hat mich vergessen,
Da trat’st du wunderbar zu mir,
Wenn ich beim Waldesrauschen hier
Gedankenvoll gesessen.
O Trost der Welt, du stille Nacht!
Der Tag hat mich so müd' gemacht,
Das weite Meer schon dunkelt,
Laß ausruh’n mich von Lust und Not,
Bis daß das ew'ge Morgenrot
Den stillen Wald durchfunkelt.
Come, comfort the world, you silent night!
How do you gently get off the mountains,
The skies are all sleeping,
A skipper just 'wandering',
Sing his evening song over the sea
To God's praise in the harbor.
The years go like the clouds
And let me stand here alone,
The world has forgotten me,
Since you were wonderful to me,
If I'm in the forest noise here
Sat thoughtfully.
O comfort of the world, you silent night!
The day has made me so tired,
The wide sea is already dark,
Let rest from lust and distress,
Until that eternal dawn
The silent forest is shining through.
IV. Letzte Bitte
Wie ein todeswunder Streiter,
Der den Weg verloren hat,
Schwank' ich nun und kann nicht weiter,
Von dem Leben sterbensmatt.
Nacht schon dekket alle Müden,
Und so still ist's um mich her,
Herr, auch mir gib endlich Frieden,
Denn ich wünsch' und hoff' nichts mehr.
Like a miracle fighter,
Who has lost the way
I sway now and cannot continue,
Dead from life.
Night already covers all the tired,
And it's so quiet around me,
Lord, I too can give peace,
Because I wish and hope nothing more.
V. Ergebung
Dein Wille, Herr, geschehe!
Verdunkelt schweigt das Land.
Im Zug der Wetter sehe
ich schauernd deine Hand.
O mit uns Sündern gehe
erbarmend in’s Gericht!
Ich beug' im tiefsten Wehe
zum Staub mein Angesicht.
Dein Wille, Herr, geschehe!
Your will, sir, be done!
Darkened, the land is silent.
See the weather on the train
I shiver your hand.
O go with us sinners
mercy into the court!
I bow in the deepest pains
to the dust my face.
Your will, sir, be done!
VI. Erhebung
So laß herein nun brechen
Die Brandung, wie sie will,
Du darfst ein Wort nur sprechen,
So wird der Abgrund still.
Und bricht die letzte Brükke,
Zu dir, der treulich steht,
Hebt über Not und Glükke
Mich einsam das Gebet.
You can only speak one word,
So the abyss is quiet.
And breaks the last bridge,
To you, who stands faithfully,
Lift over misery and fortune
Lonely the prayer.
Lockung / Abendlich schon rauscht der Wald
Fanny Hensel was one of the most prolific female composers of her era, having composed over 460 pieces of music. Much like her younger brother, Felix Mendelssohn, her prodigious musical talent and wealthy family’s aristocratic connections afforded her unfettered access to the finest musical education. But, unlike her brother, she was dissuaded from professional musical pursuits, instead expected to relegate herself to a more house-bound, “womanly” role. Although Fanny’s family did not want her to publish her own works, Felix sought her insight on his own pieces, and published a few of her works under his name. In 1846, in what would be the last year of her life, Hensel finally decided to publish under her own name, without her brother’s input. Both of Hensel’s pieces featured in this program come from one such collection of settings of poetry by J. V. Eichendorff. Lockung contemplates the sounds of the forest, including the calls of mermaids that lure the speaker into the refreshing river. Abendlich schon rauscht der Wald illustrates the forest’s sounds and its silence, and describes the calm that such tranquility brings to the speaker’s heart.
Lockung
Hörst du nicht die Bäume rauschen
Draußen durch die stille Rund?
Lockts dich nicht, hinabzulauschen
Von dem Söller in den Grund,
Wo die vielen Bäche gehen
Wunderbar im Mondenschein
Wo die stillen Schlösser sehen
In den Fluß vom hohen Stein?
Kennst du noch die irren Lieder
Aus der alten, schönen Zeit?
Sie erwachen alle wieder
Nachts in Waldeseinsamkeit,
Wenn die Bäume träumend lauschen
Und der Flieder duftet schwül
Und im Fluß die Nixen rauschen -
Komm herab, hier ist's so kühl.
Can’t you hear the forest rustle,
outside through the silent round?
Aren’t you tempted to listen down from the balcony to the ground,
Where the many brooks flow,
wondrously in the moonlight,
And the silent castles look
into the river from high rock?
Do you remember the mad songs
from old, beautiful times?
They all awake again at night, in the loneliness of the forest,
When the dreaming trees are listening,
and the lilac has a sultry scent
And in the river the mermaids murmur, ‘Come down, here it is so cool.’
Abendlich schon rauscht der Wald
Abendlich schon rauscht der Wald
Aus den tiefsten Gründen,
Droben wird der Herr nun bald
An die Sterne zünden,
Wie so stille in den Schlünden,
Abendlich nur rauscht der Wald.
Alles geht zu seiner Ruh,
Wie die Welt verbrause
Schauernd hört der Wandrer zu,
Sehnt sich tief nach Hause,
Hier in Waldes grüner Klause
Herz, geh edlich auch zur Ruh!
Beautiful evening breezes rustle the forest from the deepest grounds,
Above the lord will now soon light the stars
How silent in the chasms, just evening breezes in the wood.
Everything goes to its rest, how the world is spent,
Shuddering, listens the wanderer, yearning deeply for home,
Here in the forest-green hermitage, heart, go at last, too, to rest.
Litanei vom Hauch
Hanns Eisler was a remarkable composer of Austrian descent who created a large body of music in Europe and in America in the 20th century. Sadly, he is mostly unknown in our era. His long association with Bertolt Brecht, the great German author of the same era, resulted in much music, and he was a prominent composer of movie scores (including eight Hollywood films, two of which were Oscar-nominated). His association with political left causes resulted in his deportation from the United States in the Red Scare years; only two decades earlier he had been forced out of Germany by the Nazis. Eisler’s Litanei vom Hauch is a setting of Brecht’s impressive prose: It is an allegorical piece that is at times a cruel depiction of human tribalism, and a warning written in an almost fairy-tale fashion. The German word “Hauch” in the title adds a level of ambiguity in translation as it can mean “breeze” as easily as “breath.”
Einst kam ein altes Weib einher,
die hatte kein Brot zum Essen mehr.
Das Brot, das fraß das Militär!
Da fiel sie in die Goss', die war kalte.
Da hatte sie keinen Hunger mehr.
Darauf schwiegen die Vöglein im Walde!
Über allen Gipfeln ist Ruh,
in allen Wipfeln spürest du kaum einen Hauch!
Da kam einmal ein Totenarzt einher,
der sagte: Die Alte besteht auf ihrem Schein.
Da grub man die hungrige Alte ein.
so sage das alte Weib nichts mehr!
Nur der Arzt lachte noch über die Alte
Auch die Vöglein schweigen im Walde,
über allen Gipfeln ist Ruh.
Da kam einmal ein einz'ger Mann daher;
der hatte für diese Ordnung keinen Sinn.
Der fand in der Sache einen Haken drin.
Der war eine Art Freund für die Alte.
Der sagte: ein Mensch müsse essen können, bitte sehr, ein Mensch!
Darauf schwiegen die Vöglein im Walde.
Über allen Gipfeln ist Ruh, un allen Wipfeln spürest du kaum einen Hauch!
Da kam einmal ein Polizist daher,
der hatte einen Gummiknüppel dabei.
Der zerklopfte dem Mann seinen
Hinterkopf zu Brei!
Da sagte auch dieser Mann nichts mehr!
Doch der Polizist sagte, daß es schallte:
So! Jetzt schweigen die Vöglein im Walde!
Über allen Gipfeln ist Ruh, in allen Wipfeln spürest du kaum einen Hauch!
Da kamen mit einem mal viele rote Männer einher,
die wollten einmal reden mit dem Militär!
Doch das Militär redete mit dem Maschinengewehr
und da sagten die roten Männer nichts mehr,
doch hatten sie auf ihrer Stirne noch eine Falte!
Darauf schwiegen die Vöglein im Walde.
Über allen Gipfeln ist Ruh, ist Ruh!
Da kam ein großer roter Bär einher,
der wußte nichts von den Bräuchen,
denn er kam von überm Meer,
und der fraß die Vöglein im Walde!
Da schwiegen die Vöglein nicht mehr!
Über allen Gipfeln ist Unruh!
In allen Wipfeln spürest du jetzt einen Hauch!
Once an old crone came walking along, no bread no more.
Military ate it up, ended in the gutter cold and wet,
no hunger no more. Silent the birdsong, not a breath in the trees.
Death doctor comes walking along:
the lady insists on documentation.
hungry old crone buried,
no words no more,
doctor still laughing,
and silent the birdsong, not a breath in the trees.
One man comes walking along,
refusing to toe the line,
something's wrong here,
standing up for the lady.
A body has to eat, she's human too.
Then the birdsong was silent, not a breath in the trees,
in all the forest barely a breeze.
A policeman comes walking along,
carrying his billy club,
beats his brain to mush.
For the man no words no more.
Policeman yelling his words,
Birdsong be silent! In all the trees barely a breeze.
All at once a red crowd comes walking along,
wanting some words with the military.
Military answer with machine guns,
for the red men no words no more,
still with a crease on their forehead.
Now birdsong is silent, not a breeze in the forest,
not a breath in the trees.
And once a big red bear comes walking along,
not knowing the lines, coming from distant lands.
Ate up the birds in the trees,
birdsong not silent no more.
Breath stirs in the forest, breeze in the trees.
Vier doppelchörige Gesänge
Robert Schumann was born in Zwickau, Saxony, in 1810. The fifth and youngest son of an author, translator, and book dealer, Schumann’s middle-class upbringing allowed him to pursue his interests in literature and music while also briefly studying law. After a hand injury forced him to abandon a planned career as a concert pianist, Schumann made significant contributions to 19th century music as a composer, critic, and champion of younger composers—notably, Johannes Brahms. All of this was achieved despite life-long struggles with mental illness, culminating in a suicide attempt in 1854 and eventually his death in 1856 at age 46.
The year 1849 was one of the most productive years of Schumann’s life and saw the completion of almost 40 compositions. Among these works is the final composition on today’s program, Vier doppelchörige Gesänge, Op. 141, a set of four “part songs” for double-choir. Part songs are typically simple, secular works for unaccompanied voices, and many were composed by the likes of Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, and Schubert. Here, Schumann significantly expands the form, giving us four independent songs that are each cast on a large scale.
I. An die Sterne
Sterne in des Himmels Ferne!
die mit Strahlen bessrer Welt
ihr die Erdendämmrung hellt;
schau'n nicht Geisteraugen
von euch erdenwärts,
daß sie Frieden hauchen
ins umwölkte Herz?
Sterne in des Himmels Ferne!
träumt sich auch in jenem Raum
eines Lebens flücht'ger Traum?
Hebt Entzücken, Wonne,
Trauer, Wehmut, Schmerz,
jenseit unsrer Sonne
auch ein fühlend Herz?
Sterne in des Himmels Ferne!
Winkt ihr nicht schon Himmelsruh'
mir aus euren Fernen zu?
Wird nicht einst dem Müden
auf den goldnen Au'n
ungetrübter Frieden
in die Seele tau'n?
Sterne in des Himmels Ferne,
bis mein Geist den Fittich hebt
und zu eurem Frieden schwebt,
hang' an euch mein Sehnen
hoffend, glaubevoll!
O, ihr holden, schönen,
könnt ihr täuschen wohl?
Stars in the distant heavens!
who brighten the twilight of Earth
with the beams of a better world;
Are there not ghostly eyes
looking from you towards the earth,
breathing peace into clouded hearts?
Stars in the distant heavens!
Is the fleeting dream of life
dreamed even in that far-off place?
Are there hearts beyond our sun
which are also lifted
by delight, joy,
sorrow, melancholy, anguish?
Stars in the distant heavens!
Do your twinkles not signify heavenly peace
to me from far off?
Will you not melt peace
into the soul of weary men
one day in golden meadows?
Stars in the distant heavens,
until my spirit takes wing
and flies to your peace,
I pin my longings on you,
hoping, trusting.
O you lovely, beautiful ones,
is it possible for you to deceive me?
–Friedrich Rückert
II. Ungewisses Licht
Bahnlos und pfadlos, Felsen hinan
stürmet der Mensch, ein Wandersmann.
Stürzende Bäche, wogender Fluß,
brausender Wald, nichts hemmet den Fuß!
Dunkel im Kampfe über ihn hin,
jagend im Heere die Wolken zieh'n;
rollender Donner, strömender Guß,
sternlose Nacht, nichts hemmet den Fuß!
Endlich, ha! endlich schimmert's von fern!
Ist es ein Irrlicht, ist es ein Stern?
Ha! wie der Schimmer so freundlich blinkt,
wie er mich locket, wie er mir winkt!
Rascher durcheilet der Wandrer die Nacht,
hinnach dem Lichte zieht's ihn mit Macht!
Sprecht, wie: sind's Flammen, ist's Morgenrot,
ist es die Liebe, ist es der Tod?
Without a path, without a trail,
the man, the wanderer storms up the cliffs:
Plunging streams, a roaring river,
Booming woods, nothing breaks his stride!
Warring in darkness above,
Clouds pursue him in armies;
Rolling thunder, streaming torrents,
a starless night, nothing breaks his stride!
At last, ha! At last it glitters in the distance!
Is it a phantom, is it a star?
Ha, its sparkle is so friendly,
How it entices me, how it beckons to me!
Faster now the wanderer hurries through the night,
Drawn by the power of the light.
Tell: is it a flame, is it the sunrise?
Is it love, is it death?
–Joseph Christian von Zedlitz
III. Zuversicht
Nach oben mußt du blicken,
gedrücktes, wundes Herz,
dann wandelt in Entzücken
sich bald dein tiefster Schmerz.
Froh darfst du Hoffnung fassen,
wie hoch die Flut auch treibt.
Wie wärst du denn verlassen,
wenn dir die Liebe bleibt?
You must look up,
oppressed, wounded heart,
Then your deepest agonies
Will soon turn to delight.
"You may cling to hope gladly,
however high the flood rises.
How can you be lost
if you still have love?
–Joseph Christian von Zedlitz
IV. Talismane
Gottes ist der Orient!
Gottes ist der Okzident!
Nord und südliches Gelände
Ruht im Frieden seiner Hände.
Er, der einzige Gerechte,
Will für jedermann das Rechte.
Sei von seinen hundert Namen
Dieser hochgelobet! Amen.
Mich verwirren will das Irren;
Doch du weißt mich zu entwirren,
Wenn ich handle, wenn ich dichte,
Gieb du meinem Weg die Richte!
Ob ich Ird'sches denk' und sinne,
Das gereicht zu höherem Gewinne.
Mit dem Staube nicht der Geist zerstoben,
Dringet, in sich selbst gedrängt, nach oben.
Im Atemholen sind zweierlei Gnaden:
Die Luft einziehen, sich ihrer entladen:
Jenes bedrängt, dieses erfrischt;
So wunderbar ist dasLeben gemischt.
Du danke Gott, wenn er dich preßt,
Und dank ihm, wenn er dich wieder entläßt.
The East is God's!
The West is God's!
Northern and southern lands
rest in the peace of his hands.
He, the only one who is just,
wants justice for everyone.
Of his hundred names,
Let this one be highly praised! Amen.
Errors try to confuse me,
But you know how to disentangle me.
If I act, if I compose poems,
Give direction to my path.
Although I think on earthly things,
that stands me in higher stead.
The spirit that doesn't disperse with the dust
is forced back into itself, and ascends.
In breathing, there are two graces:
breathing in, and breathing out.
One constrains us and the other refreshes us;
This is how wonderfully life is mixed.
Thank God when he presses you,
and thank him when he releases you again.
Amen.
–Johann Wolfgang von Goethe