The song thou sang'st the North t' inspire With virtue and with power, _The three must with united choir Lift up this very hour!_ It now must bear aloft a hymn, The call of God proclaiming; Pictures of blood its lines shall limn, Drawn bold in letters flaming,-- Its name shall be: "The Free North's Hymn!" Of all the hymns thou voicest, Whose glory time shall never dim, It shall be first and choicest. OUR FOREFATHERS (JANUARY 13, 1864) (See Note 23) High memories with power Shine through the wintry North On every peak's white tower, On Kattegat so swarth. All is so still and spacious, ` The Northern Lights flow free, Creating bright and gracious A day of memory. Each deed the North defending, Each thought for greater might, A star-like word is sending Down through the frosty night! To hope they call and boldness, And call with double cheer To him, defying coldness, On guard the Eider near. No anxious shadows clouding, No languid, lukewarm mist Our heaven of mem'ries shrouding, This eve of battle-tryst! May, as of yore, while ringing The bells unseen loud swelled, Come leaders vict'ry bringing, Whom th' army ne'er beheld. WHEN NORWAY WOULD NOT HELP (EASTER EVE, 1864) (See Note 24) When Kattegat now or the Belt you sail, No more will you sight The Danish proud frigate, no more will you hail The red and white; No more will the ringing command be heard In Wessel's tongue, No rollicking music, no jocund word, 'Neath Dannebrog sung. No dance will you see, no laughter meet, As the white sails shine, From mast and from stern no garland you greet, Of arts the sign. But all that we owned of the treasures on board The deeps now hold; One sad winter night to the sea-waves were poured Our memories old. It was that same night, when the frigate nigh To Norway's land Distress-guns was firing, the surf running high With sea-weed and sand. To help from the harbor men put out boats, But they turn back, ... The frigate toward Germany drifting floats, A broken wrack! What once had been ours overboard was strown, Each kinship mark Was quickly removed, to the sea it was thrown With curses stark! The Northern lion, that figure-head gray, Now had to fall, In pieces 'twas hewn, and the frigate lay Like a shattered wall. ... Repaired and refitted, its canvas it spread Near Germany's coast, With black-yellow flag and an eagle dread In the lion's post. When sailing we Kattegat sweep with our eyes, 'T is still evermore. But a German admiral's frigate lies Near Scania's shore. DANIEL SCHJÖTZ (DIED OF OVER-EXERTION AS VOLUNTEER MILITARY-SURGEON, 1864)