Heed this, Norwegian peasant, Heed it, you townsman, too! That fruit of love's seed may be present, Our thanks must fall fresh as dew. "Here your Hamar-made matches!" My thanks kindle fast. And oh! This song at your heart-strings catches, That kindling your thanks may glow. The matches hold them in hiding,-- Scratching one you will find The light with a warmth abiding Carries them to his mind. "Here your Hamar-made matches!" Only to strike one here, Our thanks far-away dispatches, With peace his fair home to cheer. His matches in thousands of houses, In great and in small as well!-- The light that thanksgiving arouses Shall scatter the darkness fell. His matches in thousands of houses!-- Some eve from his factory He'll see how thanksgiving arouses The land, and its love flames free. He'll see in the eyes so tender, Through gleams that his matches woke, The thanks that his nation would render, His glistening wreath of oak,-- He'll feel that Norway with double The warmth of other lands glows; The harvest must more be than trouble, When faith in its future grows. "Here your Hamar-made matches!" No phosphorus-poison more! The bearer of light up-catches The work of the school before:-- From home all the poison taking, Hastening the light's advance, Longings to warm light waking, That lay there and had no chance. THEY HAVE FOUND EACH OTHER (FROM THE DRAMA THE KING, THIRD INTERLUDE) Mute they wander, Meeting yonder, In the wondrous Spring new-born, That though old as Time's first morn, Brings fresh youth to all the living, Now held fast, now far retreating, But through hearts in oneness beating Ever fullest bloom is giving. Mute they wander. E'en the eye Speaks no thought. For from on high To their souls sweet strains have spoken From the wide world's harmony, Born of light, the darkness broken, In the dawn of things to be. Power crowned-- Earth around Like a sun-song rolled the sound. Mute they wander. Sweet strains ending-- Eye nor tongue dares yet the lending Speech to thought. But lo! quick blending, All things speak! They sound and shimmer, Bloom in fragrance, ring and glimmer, Tint and tone combining, nearer, Meet as one-with all their thinking In one beauty, higher, clearer,-- Heaven itself to earth is sinking. But in this great hour of trysting Life is opened, its course brightened, Growth eternal calls, enlisting Every spirit-power heightened. THE PURE NORWEGIAN FLAG (Note: That is, without the mark of union with Sweden.) (See Note 66) I Tri-colored flag, and pure, Thou art our hard-fought cause secure; Thor's hammer-mark of might Thou bearest blue in Christian white, And all our hearts' red blood To thee streams its full flood. Thou liftest us high when life's sternest, Exultant, thou oceanward turnest; Thy colors of freedom are earnest That spirit and body shall never know dearth.-- Fare forth o'er the earth!