without objection.

It would be difficult to overstate the enthusiasm with which Kingo's
hymns were received. Within a few years they were printed in numerous
editions and translated into several foreign languages. Their
enthusiastic reception was well deserved. Viewed against the background
of literary mediocrity that characterized the period, Kingo's hymns stand
out with amazing perfection. Danish hymnody contained nothing that could
compare with them, and other countries, as far as morning and evening
hymns were concerned, were in the same position. Paul Gerhardt's fine
hymn, "Now Rests Beneath Night's Shadow", which was written twenty years
earlier, had been ridiculed into disuse; Ken's famous morning hymn dates
from twenty years later; and none of these are as fine as the best of
Kingo's.

As might be expected, the hymns are not all of the same merit. Some of
them are exceedingly fine; others show the defects of an imperfectly
developed language and a deficient literary taste. In the matter of style
and form the author had almost nothing to guide him. It is not
surprising, therefore, that his work shows crudities which no present day
writer would commit, but that it should contain so much that is truly
beautiful, even when measured by the standards of today.

Kingo had the true poet's ability to see things poetically. To him the
rays of the rising sun were not only shining but "laughing on the roof"
of his home. His imagery is rich and skillfully applied. Many of his
hymns abound in striking similes. Their outstanding characteristic,
however, is a distinctive, forceful realism. Kingo, when he chose to do
so, could touch the lyre with enhancing gentleness, but he preferred the
strong note and searched always for the most graphic expression,
sometimes too graphic, as when he speaks of the "frothing wrath of God"
and "the oozy slime of sin". Yet it is this trait of robust reality that
invests his hymns with a large part of their enduring merit. "When Kingo
sings of God, one feels as though He were right there with him", one of
his commentators exclaims. Nor is that realism a mere literary pose. Like
most great hymns, his best hymns are reflections of his own experiences.
Kingo never attained a state of saintly serenity. Whatever peace he found
was gained only through a continuous struggle with his own fiery and
passionate nature. Few hymns convey a more vivid impression of a
believing, struggling soul than Kingo's.