Poems and Songs by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson (feel good books .txt) 📕

Gave little life
And less of color.

A botanist the flower chanced to see
And glad exclaimed: Oh, this must sheltered be,
Must seed produce, renewing birth,
In sun-warmed earth
Become a thousand.

But as he dug and drew it from the ground,
Strange glitterings upon his hands he found;
For to its roots clung dust of golden hue;
The flower grew
On golden treasure!

And from the region wide came all the youth
To see the wonder; they divined the truth:
Here lay their country's future might;
A ray of light
From God that flower!--

This I recall now even while I mourn;
The Lord of life has lifted him and borne
From mountain-cold and wintry air
To fruitage fair
In warmth eternal.

For where the roots were of that life replete,
What gleams and glitters! See, they ran to meet
The shafts of wisdom's goodly mines,
The gold that shines
In veins of God's thought.

Now he is lifted up, to light are brought
The riches he to guard so faithful sought.
The treasures of our past are there,
And glintings rare
Of future riches.

Come, Norway's youth! Unearth to use the hoard
That round this heaven-borne flower's roots was stored!
To you his message! Hear and heed!
Achieve in deed
His dream and longing!



DURING A JOURNEY IN SWEDEN

(See Note 28)

My boyish heart in thee confided,
For to the great by thee 't was guided.
As man, my waiting is for thee,--
_The Northern cause with thee, with thee!_

Rich lands and talents are thy dower,
But fallow lie thy wealth and power.
_Thou must the North in concord bind,
Or never shalt thy true self find._

There's longing in thy folk arisen,
Poetic hope--but yet in prison.
Though forces great within thee dwell,
Thou art not wholly sound and well.

Too many things are undertaken,
Too oft the task is soon forsaken.
Though rich in promptings of the heart,
In faith and duty faint thou art.

In danger only hast thou thriven,
When something great to guard was given.
When every breast with warmth shall glow
At Sweden's name, thy strength thou'lt know.

What's thine alone lifts not thy feeling,
Till honor's cause the skies are pealing,
Thou hast no joy but daring deed
In fortune's favor or in need.

For thy fair memories inspiring
Are far too great, much more requiring:
_The Northern cause! Lead thou the way!
'T will double glory thee repay!_

Of all thou canst, this is the greatest,
Thy duty earliest and latest.
Thy future rests in its embrace
With cure for ills that now abase.

Thou land of heart-born fancies thronging,
Thou land of poetry and longing,
Fill now thy heart, thy spirit free!
_The Northern banner waits for thee!_



THE TRYST

Silent I'm biding,
While softly gliding
Sink the still hours to eternity's sleep.
My fancies roaming
List in the gloaming:--
Will she the trysting now keep?

Winter is dreaming,
Bright stars are beaming,
Smiling their light through its cloud-veil they pour,
Summer foretelling
Sweet love compelling;--
Dare she not meet me here more?

'Neath the ice lying,
Longing and sighing,
Ocean would wander and warmer lands woo.
Anchored ships swinging,
Sail-thoughts outflinging;--
Come we together, we two!

Whirling and fallings
Pictures enthralling,
Fairy-light made in the forest the snow;
Wood-folk are straying,
Shadows are playing;--
Was it your footstep? Oh, no!

Courage is failing,
Hoar frost assailing
Boughs of your longing surrounds with its spell.
But I dare enter,
Break to the center,
Where in dream-fetters you dwell.



SONG FOR THE STUDENTS' GLEE CLUB

(See Note 29)

Now, brothers, sing out our song,
Whose train of light shall follow long!
With love are its measures beating
And victory's joyous greeting,
While round about it flower-seeds
In will of youth shall grow to deeds!

Our song has gone far and. wide,
Bright mem'ries on our way abide,
In flags flying, friends that love us,
In wreaths from fair hands above us,
In feasts where youth's full spirits stream,
Our nation's past, our nation's dream.

At _Hald_ on a sunny day
That shot-torn flag of many a fray
Was waving above our singing,
Soul-fire to our music bringing,
The ardor of that glorious band,
Who died as heroes for our land.

To _Arendal_ our summer-way
"For might and fame!"--remember aye!
The fleet on the bay was riding,
Our singer-ship through it gliding.
Our merchant-ships shall rule the wave!
This joyous hoisting-song we gave.

We gathered in _Bergen_ town
Of ancient and of new renown.
The horns of our fathers greet us,
King Sverre comes forth to meet us;
But fresh and full the present spoke
In heartfelt song from all its folk.

_Upsala, Copenhagen, Lund,_
In each our song its garland won,
Fair fetters of music winding,
Harmonious the Northland binding;
Our mighty choral theme shall be
_The Northern races' unity._

With courage, then, onward roam!
Where echo answers is our home.
Our past that we sing draws nearer,
Our future in song grows clearer,
E'en while we wander hand in hand
And summer sing into our land.



+
MRS. LOUISE BRUN

(JANUARY 30, 1866)
(See Note 30)

CHORUS
_(Behind the scenes)_
Farewell, farewell,
From friends, from all, from fatherland!
Your soul's calm power is from us riven,
Your words, your song, to spirit's praise
In art's glad temple given.

CHORUS OF MEN
We thank you that with youthful fire
You came the doubting to inspire,
Who anxious stood with strength untried!


CHORUS OF WOMEN
We thank you that in morning-dawn
Your woman's tact and aid were drawn
Our boisterous youthful art to guide!

ALL
Thanks for the spring of your life's year,
Thanks for the tones so sweet and clear,
Thanks for the tints of pearly hue,
That colored all you touched anew.
For all your noble life on earth,
Thanks, thanks!
And that you gave our calling worth,
Thanks, thanks!

EPILOGUE
'T is but a short time since we saw pass by
A picture drawn from life, austere and dark,
A soul in servitude to strong desires;
And all its life in prison-labor spent.
Although religion prays and sings its hymns,
And poetry and art their sunshine spread,
That soul in slavery toils, till white the hair.

She, in whose memory we gather here,
Was early made to feel by hard conditions,
That clouded life and rudely barred her soul,--
How men and women live as toiling slaves!
And she rebelled against this servitude;
Great powers have birth to longings for the light;
_Freedom she craved, that others she might free!_
With restless spirit outward went her quest
To people, books; but thoughtful she became,
As one whose search was vain; reserved and shy,
As one whose courage fails;--until one day
_He_, who from fairy-tale and hero-legend
That wondrous bow received of magic might,
Stood up and to the vale and mountain played:
"Come forth, come from our nation's heart-deep forth,
Creative might, that in our nation's morning
Didst lift its image up to dread, to greatness,
In myths of Asas fair and giants grim!
As mountain-walls lean o'er their own reflection,
In that thought-ocean we our life could see,
With spring, with winter, and with spring again.
Thou gav'st our image oft in song and story,
In times of darkness and in times of light;
Our image meets us wheresoe'er we go,--
But yet our nation sees it not, nor looks
Up from its toiling thoughts and dull routine!--
Oh, wake it, lift it, _make it see itself!_
Then shall it put to use the powers it owns!"

And living echoes answered! Lo, there swarmed
Elves of the Stage about him, as he played!
They made the lamps to burn, and reared the grotto,
They brought and brushed the costumes Holberg knew,
And in them played their pranks 'neath powdered wigs,--
Roamed on the mountains of a summer night
And stole the saeter-maiden while she slept,
And filled with mortal fear the aged wooer!
They danced the goblin-dance in dusk of winter,
Played hide-and-seek with their own shadows;
They snared the hypocrite in his own sighs,
In his own web the pettifogger bound;
They scattered wide the hoard a miser gathered,
They tripped and threw the petty parish-pope
They saved the tears of innocence seduced
And on the altar laid as lustrous pearls;
They melted hatred in the ice-hard breast,
It fell as rain upon the enemy's fields;
They bound the slanderer, Mazeppa-like,
Upon the back of his wild calumnies;--
The crafty man of stealthy selfishness
They set afloat within an open boat;--
But one who freely gave himself, his all,
They bore to heaven upon their joyous laughter.
They drew the magic ring round those who loved,
And to the altar led the blushing pair.
They brought heroic forms from barrows old
To tower in might among the teeming present.
--There was not one could longer rest in peace;
Himself, his folly, all our country's need,
Wholeness victorious, halfness doomed to fail,
The power of honest faith, the wreck of doubt,--
All this our nation saw in its own image,
When strongly lighted on the Stage 't was set.--

And she was part of this! The first full tone
Thrilled her breast too and woke a thousand mem'ries
Of something that