C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Frithiof Goes into Banishment
By Esaias Tegnér (17821846)
H
I’ th’ summer night,
Bore th’ hero grieving.
Like waves high heaving,
Now rage now woe
Thro’ his bosom flow;
Smoke still ascended,
The fire not ended.
Unknown to thee
Are despot’s glances
And tyrant’s fancies.
Where freemen swing
Is he thy king
Who never shivers,
Howe’er high quivers,
With rage oppressed,
Thy froth-white breast!
Thy plains, blue-spreading,
Glad chiefs are treading;
Like ploughs thereon
Their keels drive on;
And blood-rain patters
In shade th’ oak scatters,
But steel-bright there
The corn-seeds glare!
Those plains so hoary
Bear crops of glory,
Rich crops of gold:
Thou billow bold
Befriend me! Never
I’ll from thee sever!
My father’s mound
Dull stands, fast-bound,
And selfsame surges
Chant changeless dirges;
But blue shall mine
Through foam-flowers shine,
’Mid tempests swimming,
And storms thick dimming,
And draw yet mo
Down, down, below.—
My life-home given,
Thou shalt, far-driven!
My barrow be,
Thou free broad Sea!”
Hill-tops behind;
Fresh breezes bounded
From shore, and sounded
Each wave to dance
In morning’s glance.
Where th’ high surge leapeth
Ellida sweepeth,
Glad stretched her wings.
But Frithiof sings:—
Thou lofty North!
Away I’m hurried
From this thine earth.
My race from thee goes,
I boasting tell;
Now, nurse of heroes—
Farewell! Farewell!
Valhalla’s throne,
Night’s eye, bright-beaming
Midsummer’s sun!
Sky! where, as in hero’s
Soul, pure depths dwell,
And thronging star-rows,—
Farewell! Farewell!
Seats glory for;
Ye tablet fountains
For mighty Thor!
Ye lakes and highlands
I left so sel’,
Ye rocks and islands,
Farewell! Farewell!
By wave of blue,
Where, snow-white gleaming,
Limes flower-dust strew!
But Saga spieth
And doometh well
I’ the earth what lieth;—
Farewell! Farewell!
Fresh houses green,
Where youth plucked flowers
By murm’ring stream;
Ye friends of childhood
Who meant me well,
Ye’re yet remembered;—
Farewell! Farewell!
My palace brent,
My honor tarnished,
In exile sent,—
From land in sadness
To th’ sea we appeal;
But Life’s young gladness,
Farewell! Farewell!”