Nicolaj Frederik Severin Grundtvig

(1783 - 1872 / Denmark)

Abraham sad i Mamre-Lund


Abraham sad i Mamre-Lund,
Han var en Hyrdekonning,
Salvet af Gud med egen Mund,
Og Sara hed hans Dronning.


Riig paa Kameler, Køer og Faar,
Det var den Drot med Ære,
Gammel derhos, snart hundred Aar:
Og hvis skal det saa være!


Gud havde sagt: 'Jeg sandelig
'Vil i din Æt velsigne
'Menneskens Kiøn paa Jorderig!'
Og Løgn kan Ham ei ligne!


Abraham sukked dog i Løn:
'Til Graven brat vi stunder,
'Føder mig Sara nu en Søn,
'Det er et stort Vidunder!'


Dagen var heed, men Herrens Ven
Sad svalt i Egeskygge;
Hisset da kom tre Vandringsmænd
At ønske ham til Lykke!

Giæstmild er og den Hyrdedrot,
Vil Reisen dem forsøde,
Byder dem til sit grønne Slot,
At hvile sig af Møde!


Herren det var med Engle to,
De lod sig det behage
Hyrden at giæste, som var tro,
Og Jordens Brød at smage.


Herren da siger til sin Ven,
Alt som Han bryder Brødet:
'Naar om et Aar vi sees igien,
'Har Sara Søn paa Skiødet!'


Sara hun stod bag Dør og loe,
Saa faldt det hende fremmed;
Abraham tog det Ord med Tro,
Hans Haab ham ei beskiæmmed'!


Ordet udgik af Kongens Mund,
Som haver Alt at raade,
Abraham sad i Mamre-Lund,
Med Sønnen af Guds Naade!

Submitted: Friday, July 13, 2012

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