Sats wergeland. Full text of Wergeland, the Norwegian 2019-11-20

Full text of Wergeland, the Norwegian

As in the cdflossal statues which their nation leaves them, the feet of these great men are so much in evidence— seen from a lower point of view. When the heart is lifted into glory, the innocent, earthly things which it has loved, cling to it as to a magnet. The hills and dells around Eidsvold, the historical place inspiring reverence for country and constitution, made a glorious playground for venturesome children. There lay he, stretched a corpse before the fire. In a cloud valley you shall see him browsing, carnations to the right and gilly-flowers to the left. He did not come to ask about the child, but for the Jew, from all the village girls whose hopes to go to church were now relayed to New Year's Day — that is, if he were found.

Full text of Wergeland, the Norwegian

They shall one day adorn the diadem of my spirit. He may well describe himself as the tongue of a bell which is wrapped in a thick, damp covering. In heavens where Time has not entered with measured pace, the Seer with Victory dwells ere the battle, and together with Hope soars in front of the race. A crystal bath upon it falls thy sheen. Traceless its days do disappear; like Jordan to the silent mere, they toward the grave are flowing, nor deed or honour knowing. Complain not under the stars of the lack of bright spots in your life! What riches for a mortal! The earth-ball behind rolls History's thunder — the song of the Seer's the lightning forth-hurl'd. He was in love with the open air, and its vitality pervades his work; these are the living leaves as of a tree, a foot- drinker according to the vigorous Sanskrit term, grasp- ing the earth close; these also, raised high in the sunlight, are in-gatherers of cosmical energy.

Full text of Wergeland, the Norwegian

Its riches have melted to the size of a snow- ball, but she will take the weeping boy to her heart and the downs under. Then he discovered he had lost his knapsack, as he had nothing now at all to offer the good poor people who would run to open their door with hospitable haste. And, although my voice be feeble, still it is a human voice ; even though you should own no soul but mine, still you did own a human soul, which is the greatest thing that a man can conquer. Gosse, Northern Studies, and bj' Miles M. Anon he rises, penetrates the darkness, as delving dwarf works thro' the pitchy mould. As by a miracle he was stopped by it. The consciousness of his calling as a poet, and how he understood it, appears so often throughout Werge- land's work that we must remember that he was up- holding his view of the poet's offtce against the prevail- ing one.

Full text of Wergeland, the Norwegian

His heart swells, and straightway the serpent is shattered, that around it did roll like a great rolling wave. Ay, golden kingdoms of Stella! She has told us that Brownie would come every day to her window, and gaze at her with his intelligent eyes until the kindly hand came forth. The faults and flaws, absence of taste and sense of proportion, which are so very evident in the earlier poems, are mainly due to the fact that Re could only improvise — rush on and on without ever looking back. A withering straw, he fades away — why miss the gladness of the May? The she-wolf wouldn't let her whelps! His own call 'gainst the storm is carried back into his mouth. Skreia, on the southwest shore of the lake is, so to speak, the mid-air starting point of Wergeland's poetry. Dawson, The American Scaiidinaviati Review, Oct.

Full text of Wergeland, the Norwegian

When ' Open the window! Witness, thou whom I have so often embraced, with the reverence of a great-grandson for his great- grandfather. A Janus face at least he has not got. Happy the hero shall rest in his ship, deep in a mound ; but he lives there, yea lives, 'neath its roof decked with violets, and his name aye in songs of the spirits does sound. Blood-stained the ankle; the forehead high-lifted, bright- shining — not hawks, Heav'nly spirits upon it do ride. Often did they, fiery, stretch out after me. Venus did send, forth-beaming, a sweet white-veiled Stella, a guide to the good beings' star to conduct thee. My soul rejoices in heaven's joy of spring, and shall take part in that of the earth.

Full text of Wergeland, the Norwegian

You shall seem to lay your hand on his neck. His pen flies so fast that it sometimes seems to slip the paper, and we miss the trace altogether. . Copenhagen, 1886, is referred to throughout the following. Fly, Spring-time fair, so light and gay, Fly not with all my spite away! Your mother sends them to let you know that you shall meet in Heaven all that you have loved, even the least. This only yet : as soon as the last bud has opened, our work-cells will fall in, and we will hasten back to your mother with the heavenly clothing she is giving to her first- born. Pray for me, and I will pour wine on thy roots and heal thy scars with kisses.

Full text of Wergeland, the Norwegian

Fearless and faithful futureward look — such is the glittering wand, that which determines Fate's every footstep. Reek not dim vapour from my heart-string! Like the insect's sting in the mussel, insults breed pearls only in my heart. Without fame day dawneth not in such a name : tnerein begin thy labour. But to the objects of his passion it must often have been as though he gazed through them at something far beyond their ordinary familiar selves. To contemporary critics Wergeland's exuberant imagery was impenetrable, and, headed by J.

Full text of Wergeland, the Norwegian

For in the thund'ring of the forest tree-tops he heard the harps of David jubilant. When a bird flies over my head my hate is a thousand cubits hence. Were it not best to leave to Death the work of clearing? Our heavenly names now I know, wherewith in our graves we are christened. But how to find a house in the wild Tived in such a night, when lights durst not be burnt? Linger till I, a fluttering veil, or a faint luminous cloud, come along, drifting over the mountains! We are genii, angels' hand-maids. Three seconds peace, and my soul's at the borders of realms of thought and of dreaming.

Full text of Wergeland, the Norwegian

They are the lazy ones. Caesarian eagles are sitting yet on its brow! Come to the wedding of the thrush! To the sense which is awake to the actual living connection of every being, self-sacrifice is as much a matter of course as the flowing of water from a higher level to a lower. All Nature has heard it. The cruel, cruel words cut thro' him keener than the winter wind, and, stronger than the wind, they threw him down, down in the snow, bent o'er the slumbering child. The storm has covered up his track. Spheres are thy harp : to silvery strings, trembling, on Heaven's broad blue shield-rims extended, now canst thou listen! At once he turns to whence he heard it come, working his way deeper into the forest, deeper into the snow, into the night, rearing like mountain-wall against his steps, by instant-passing snow-gusts bleakly lighted, as if the whole white forest were one horde of flying, whirling, veiled ghosts and spirits, who howling rose each moment on his way; on airy toe they spun, horribly growing — and then were gone between the rooted trees.