Daughters drew near him in love secure Cooling his forehead's hot fever; Gently their message of innocence pure Made him a childlike believer. Or he joined glad in their light-hearted game, Colors and music surrounding,-- Gone were the clouds, in the heavens came Sparkling of star-light abounding. But as in an autumn evening Silent, dreamy, dark, sheet-lightning Wakens thought and feeling stormward,-- Or as in a boat a sudden Stroke when gliding as in slumber On between the cliffs that tower In a quiet, balmy spring night,-- But a single stroke and soft, then Echo takes it up and tosses To and fro 'mid walls of mountains, Thrush and grouse send forth their wood-calls Deer rise up and listen keenly, Stones are rolling, all are up now, Dogs are barking, bells are clanging, Ushering in the strife of daytime,-- Thus could oft a recollection Down-light falling in that playtime, Waken all his thought and doubting! Then it roved the wide world over, Then it hottest burned within him,-- But it lavished light for others! Rise of races, spread of language, Birth of names, all laws' close kinship, Small and great in equal passion, Equal haste and doubting goal-ward!-- There where others stones saw only, He saw precious gems that glistened, Sunk his shaft the mine to deepen. And where others thought the treasure Sure and safe for years a hundred, Doubt possessed him as he burrowed Day and night -- and saw it vanish! But the unrest that gave power Made him oft the goal pass over; While to others he gave clearness, Intuitions new deceived him. Therefore: where he once had striven, Thither he would turn him never, Changed his ground and shifted labor, From his own thought-conquests fleeing. But his thoughts pursued, untiring, Followed, growing, as the fire, Kindled in Brazilian forests, Storm-wind makes and storm-wind follows! Where before no foot had trodden, Ways were burned for many millions! Northward stretches Scandinavia 'Mid the fog that dims the Ice-sea, Darkness of the months of winter Lays its weight on sea and mountain. Like our lands are too our peoples. Their beginnings prehistoric Stretch afar in fog and darkness. But as through the fog a lighthouse, Or as Northern Lights o'er darkness, Gleamed his thought with light and guidance. When with filial fond remembrance Tenderly he sought and questioned, Searching for his people's pathways-- Names and graves and rusty weapons, Stones and tools their answer gave him. Through primeval Asian forests, Over steppes and sands of deserts, 'Neath a thousand years that moldered, Saw he caravan-made footsteps Seek a new home in the Northland. And as they the rivers followed, Followed them his thought abundant, Into Nature's All full-flowing.--