From the Cantata for N. F. S. Grundtvig (1872)
His day was the greatest the Northland has seen,
It one was with the midnight-sun’s wonders serene:
The light wherein he sat was the light of God’s true peace,
And that has never morning, nor night when it must cease.
In light of God’s peace shone the history he gave,
The spirit’s course on earth that shall conquer the grave.
Might of God’s pure peace thus our fathers’ mighty way
Before us for example and warning open lay.
In light of God’s peace he beheld with watchful eye The people at their work and the spirit’s strivings high. In light of God’s pure peace he would have all learning glow, And where his word is honored the “Folk-High-Schools” must grow.
In light of God’s peace stood ’mid sorrow and care
For Denmark’s folk his comfort, a castle strong and fair;
In light of God’s pure peace there shall once again be won
And thousand-fold increased, what seems lost now and undone.
In light of God’s peace stands his patriarch-worth,
The sum and the amen of a manful life on earth.
In light of God’s pure peace how his face shone, lifted up,
When white-haired at the altar he held th’ atoning cup.
In light of God’s peace came his word o’er the wave,
In light of God’s pure peace sound the sweet psalms he gave.
In light of God’s pure peace, as its sunbeam curtains fall
To hide him from us, stands now his memory for all.
AT A BANQUET FOR
PROFESSOR LUDV. KR. DAA
(See Note 58)
Youthful friends here a circle form,
Elder foes now surrender.
Feel among us in safety, warm,
Toward you our hearts are tender.
Once again on a hard-fought day
Hero-like you have led the way,
Smiting all that before you stood;—
But now be good!
With no hubbub, without champagne,
Dress-suit, and party-collar,
We would honor o’er viands plain
Grateful our “grand old scholar”!
When all quiet are wind and wave,
Seldom we see this pilot brave;—
When storm-surges our ship might whelm,
He takes the helm!
—Takes the helm and through thick and thin
(Clear are his old eyes burning),
Steers the course with his trusty “grin,”
Straight, where the others are turning!
Thanks gave to him I know not who,
For he scolded the skipper, too!—
Back he went to his home right soon:
We had the boon.
He has felt what it is to go
Hated, till truth gains the battle;
He has felt what it is to know
Blows that from both sides rattle.
He has felt what the cost is, so
Forward the present its path to show:
He, whose strength had such heights attained,
Stood all disdained.
Would that Norway soon grew so great
That it with justice rewarded
Heroes who its true weal create,
Who are no laggards sordid.
Shall we always so slowly crawl,
Split forever in factions small,
Idly counting each ill that ails?—
No! Set the sails!
Set the sails for the larger life,
Whereto our nation has power!
Daily life is with death but rife,
If there’s not growth every hour.
Rally to war for the cause of right,
Sing ’neath the standard of honor bright,
Sail with faith in our God secure,
And strong endure
OH, WHEN WILL YOU STAND FORTH?
(See Note 59)
Oh, when will you stand forth, who with strength can bring aid,
To strike down the injustice and lies
That my house have beset, and with malice blockade
Every pathway I out for my powers have laid,
And would hidden means find
With deceit and with hate
To set watch on my mind
And defile every plate
In my beautiful home where defenseless we wait?
Oh, when will you stand forth? This detraction through years
For my people has made me an oaf,
Hides my poetry’s fount in the fog of its fleers,
So it merely a pool of self-worship appears;
Like a clumsy troll I
Am contemned with affront,
Whom all “cultured” folk fly,
Or yet gather to hunt,
That their hunger of hate at a feast they may blunt.
When I publish a book: “It is half like himself;”
If I speak, ’t is for vanity’s sake.
What I build in the stage-world of fancy’s free elf
Is but formed from my fatuous self.
When for faith I contend
And our land’s ancient ways,
When the bridge I defend
From our fathers’ great days,
’Tis because my poor breast no king’s “Order” displays.
Oh, when will you stand forth, who shall sunder in twain
All this slander so stifling and foul,
And shall sink in the sea all the terror insane
That they have of heart-passion and will-wielding brain,—
And with love shall enfold
A soul’s faith wide and deep,
That in want and in cold
Would its morning-watch keep
Undismayed, till the light all the host shall ensweep?
Come, thou Spirit of Norway, God-given of yore
In the stout giant-conquering Thor!
While the lightning thou ridest, thy answer’s loud roar
Drowns the din that the dwarfs in defiance outpour;
Thou canst waken with might
All our longings to soar,
Thou canst strengthen in right
What united we swore,
When at Hafur thy standard in honor we bore.
Hail, thou Spirit of Norway! To think but of thee
Makes so small all the small things I felt.
To thy coming I hallow me, wholly to thee,
And I humbly look up to thy face, unto thee,
And I pray for a song
With thy tongue’s stirring sound,
That I true may and strong
In the crisis be found,
To rouse heroes for thee on our forefathers’ ground.