Poems, from the Danish. Selected and illustrated with historical notes

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Carpenter and Son, 1815 - Danish poetry - 174 pages
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Page 109 - Like leviathans afloat, Lay their bulwarks on the brine; While the sign of battle flew On the lofty British line : It was ten of April morn by the chime As they drifted on their path, There was silence deep as death; And the boldest held his breath, For a time. But the might of England flushed To anticipate the scene ; And her van the fleeter rushed O'er the deadly space between. ''Hearts of oak...
Page iii - Fillan's spring, And down the fitful breeze thy numbers flung, . ' Till envious ivy did around thee cling, Muffling with verdant ringlet every string, — O Minstrel Harp, still must thine accents sleep?
Page 23 - Drink to Norway's hills sublime, Rocks, snows, and glens profound ; " Success !" her thousand echoes cry, And thank us with the sound. Old Dofra mingles with our glee, And joins our shouts with three times three. Chorus, — To Norway, mother of the brave, We crown the cup of pleasure.
Page 83 - O'er Denmark's green vales spread a buckler of gold ; Pour the glories of harvest unsparingly forth, And show that our wealth is our dear native mould : Smile on the conqueror of ocean, who urges Through darkness and tempests, his blue path to fame ; May the sea spare her hero, and waft on her surges Blessings and peace to the land whence he came. Round the forehead of art twine the wreath that she loves, And harden to labor the sinews of youth ; With a hedge of stout hearts guard our Eden's fair...
Page 29 - He sailed three days, he sailed three nights, He and his merry men bold ; The fourth he neared old Norway's heights ;— I tell you the tale as 'tis told. On Romsdale coast has he landed his host, And lifted the flag of ruin ; Full fourteen hundred, of mickle boast, All eager for Norway's undoing. They scathe, they ravage, where'er they light, Justice or ruth unheeding ; They spare not the old for his locks so white Nor the widow for her pleading. They slew the babe on his mother's arm, As he smiled...
Page 146 - I swear, he once said, never to make my offerings to an idol, but to that God alone whose omnipotence has formed the world and stamped man with his own image. It would be an act of folly in me to expect help from him whose power and empire arises from the accidental hollow of a tree or the peculiar form of a stone.
Page 137 - To Norway, valour's native sphere, We drink with boundless pleasure. One glass at friendship's shrine is due, One to Norwegian beauty; Some nymph, my friend, may claim for you, From us this welcome duty. Shame on the slave who spurns his chains, And women, wine, and song disdains.
Page 31 - Nokken * mounts from the waters dun, And waits for the prey that is coming. The first shot hit the brave Sinclair right, He fell with a groan full grievous ; The Scots beheld the good colonel's plight, Then said they, " Saint Andrew receive us !" " Ye Norway men, let your hearts be keen ! No mercy to those who deny it ! " The Scots then wished themselves home, I ween, They liked not this Norway diet.
Page 58 - ... feels thee in a guiltless breast ! Peace to the generous heart, essaying With deeds of love to win our praise ! He smiles, the spring of life surveying, Nor fears her cold and wintry days : To his high goal, with triumph bright, The calm years waft him in their flight. Thou glorious goal, that...
Page 79 - Eloisa's bowers of cost, Matched with the bush, where, hid in berries white, Mine arms around my infant love were crossed ' What Jura's peak, to that upon whose height I strove to grasp the moon, and where the flight Of my first thought was in my Maker lost ? No! here, — but here, — in this lone paradise, Which Frederic, like the peaceful angel, gilds, Where my loved brethren mix in social ties, From Norway's rocks to...

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