First Norseman, Dane, agreeing In trying times were found, But Saga's will far-seeing By little men was bound; Then Norseman, Swede, agreeing, Time in its fullness found, And Saga's will far-seeing Shall nevermore be bound. There is prophetic power In longing hearts of men, Foretells our union's hour ' For great deeds once again. Each festival so glorious To solemn vows us draws: Forever be victorious Our blood's, our race's cause! HYMN OF THE PURITANS (FROM MARIA STUART) Arm me, Lord, my strength redouble, Heaven open, heed my trouble! God, if my cause Thine shall be, Grant a day of victory! Fell all Thy foes now! Fell all Thy foes now! Roll forth Thy thunders, Thy lightning affright them, Into the pit, the bottomless, smite them, Their seed uproot, Tread under foot! Send then Thy snowy white dove peace-bringing, Unto Thy faithful Thy token winging, Olive-branch fair of Thy summer's fruition After the deluge of sin's punition! HUNTING SONG (FROM MARIA STUART) Round us rolls the heather's sheen, Heather's sheen, 'Neath the falcon of our queen, Of our queen. Birch and cherry balm exhale, Balm exhale, Loud our horns the cliffs assail, Cliffs assail. Light the air and clear the sky, Clear the sky,-- Hurrah! onward, she is nigh, She is nigh. Hunt ye joy with every breath, Every breath, Hunt it to the stream of death, Stream of death! TAYLOR'S SONG (FROM MARIA STUART) For joys the hours of earth bestow With sorrow thou must pay. Though many follow close, yet know, They're loaned but for a day. With sighing in thy laughter's stead Shall come a time of grief, The load of usury bow thy head, With loss of thy belief. Mary Anne, Mary Anne, Mary Anne, Mary Anne, Hadst thou not smiled upon me, thou, I were not weeping now. May God help him who never can Give only half his soul; The time comes surely for that man To take the sorrow whole. May God help him who was so glad, That he cannot forget, Help him who lost the all he had, But not his reason yet. Mary Anne, Mary Anne, Mary Anne, Mary Anne, The flowers that my life had grown, Died out when thou went gone. LECTOR THAASEN (See Note 27) I read once of a flower that lonely grew, Apart, with trembling stem and pale of hue; The mountain-world of cold and strife Gave little life And less of color. A botanist the flower chanced to see And glad exclaimed: Oh, this must sheltered be, Must seed produce, renewing birth, In sun-warmed earth Become a thousand. But as he dug and drew it from the ground, Strange glitterings upon his hands he found; For to its roots clung dust of golden hue; The flower grew On golden treasure! And from the region wide came all the youth To see the wonder; they divined the truth: Here lay their country's future might; A ray of light From God that flower!--