Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson,
Poems and Songs
“ The fount of saga, faith, and hope Mad'st flow for every peasant;— Now from the snow-years' mountain-side Thou seest with time's returning tide Thine own high image present.To thee, then, in whose spring of song Finland's "the thousand lakes" belong And sound their thrilling sorrow:— Our Northern soul forever heard Keeps watch and ward in poet's word 'Gainst Eastern millions' morrow.But when I stand in our own home, One greets me from the starry dome With wealth of light and power. There shines he: HENRIK WERGELAND, Out over Norway's pallid strand In memory's clear hour. ”
