Yes, if you but guessed, this might be A poem for you made by me, Whose billowy lines just now fly Up where you stand graceful and high! But look you, this knowledge, to no purpose grew it, I farther will go, Heaven guard, lest we rue it,-- If only you knew it! THE ANGELS OF SLEEP Asleep the child fell When night cast its spell; The angels came near With laughter and cheer. Her watch at its waking the mother was keeping: "How sweet, my dear child, was your smile now while sleeping!" To God mother went, From home it was rent; Asleep the child fell 'Neath tears' troublous spell. But soon it heard laughter and mother-words tender; The angels brought dreams full of childhood's rare splendor. It grew with the years, Till gone were the tears; Asleep the child fell, While thoughts cast their spell. But faithful the angels their vigils were keeping, The thoughts took and whispered: "Have peace now, while sleeping!" THE MAIDEN ON THE SHORE She wandered so young on the shore around, Her thoughts were by naught on earth now bound. Soon came there a painter, his art he plied Above the tide, In shadow wide,-- He painted the shore and herself beside. More slowly she wandered near him around, Her thoughts by a single thing were bound. And this was his picture wherein he drew Herself so true, Herself so true, Reflected in ocean with heaven's blue. All driven and drawn far and wide around Her thoughts now by everything were bound. Far over the ocean,--and yet most dear The shore right here, The man so near, Did ever the sunshine so bright appear! SECRET LOVE He gloomily sat by the wall, As gaily she danced with them all. Her laughter's light spell On every one fell; His heartstrings were near unto rending, But this there was none comprehending. She fled from the house, when at eve He came there to take his last leave. To hide her she crept, She wept and she wept; Her life-hope was shattered past mending, But this there was none comprehending. Long years dragged but heavily o'er, And then he came back there once more. --Her lot was the best, In peace and at rest; Her thought was of him at life's ending, But this there was none comprehending. OLAF TRYGVASON (See Note 10) Broad the sails o'er the North Sea go; High on deck in the morning glow Erling Skjalgsson from Sole Scans all the sea toward Denmark: "Cometh never Olaf Trygvason?" Six and fifty the ships are there, Sails are let down, toward Denmark stare Sun-reddened men;--then murmur: "Where is the great Long Serpent? Cometh never Olaf Trygvason?"