Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson Poems

Young men and women, strong and sound,
Adorn with beautiful excess
Of play and song and flower-dress
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I went to a school that was little and proper,
Both for church and for state a conventional hopper,
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List to the forest-voice murmuring low:
All that it saw when alone with its laughter,
All that it suffered in times that came after,
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Have thanks for all from our childhood's day,
Our play together in woodland roaming.
I thought that play would go on for aye,
Though life should pass to its gloaming.
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Here hast thou before thee that constellation
Whereunder was born thy light;
These stars in the vault of high thoughts' mutation
Will fashion thy life with might.
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High memories with power
Shine through the wintry North
On every peak's white tower,
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Wonder I must, what I once may see
Over the lofty mountains!
Eyes shall meet only snow, may be;
Standing here, each evergreen tree
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Asleep the child fell
When night cast its spell;
The angels came near
With laughter and cheer.
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(On his fiftieth birthday)
With friends you stalwart stand and fair,
To-day of fifty years the heir;
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Kille, kille, lambkin mine,
Though it often be hard to climb
Over the rocks upswinging,
Follow thy bell's sweet ringing!
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