 | The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival |  |
NORWEGIAN.
I. National Air.
Ye sons of sires who fought and bled
For liberty and glory,
Whose fame shall ever wider spread
Till Time is bent and hoary,
Awake to meet the invading foe!
Rouse at the call of danger!
Beat down again his standard low,
And backward hurl the stranger!
For liberty and glory,
Whose fame shall ever wider spread
Till Time is bent and hoary,
Awake to meet the invading foe!
Rouse at the call of danger!
Beat down again his standard low,
And backward hurl the stranger!
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They knew no fear, those sires of old,—
'Mid swords and bayonets clashing,
Still high they bore their banner's fold,
Its stars, like lightnings, flashing.
Be like those sires! With freeborn might
Renew the deeds of story!
Who lives, shall win a wreath of light!
Who falls, shall sleep in glory!
'Mid swords and bayonets clashing,
Still high they bore their banner's fold,
Its stars, like lightnings, flashing.
Be like those sires! With freeborn might
Renew the deeds of story!
Who lives, shall win a wreath of light!
Who falls, shall sleep in glory!
II. Mountain Air.
Sons of the chase, awake!
Haste, see the morning break!
Wake to the horn!
Ere fades the morning star,
Echoes, 'round crag and scar,
Proudly its blast afar,—
Far rings the horn!
Haste, see the morning break!
Wake to the horn!
Ere fades the morning star,
Echoes, 'round crag and scar,
Proudly its blast afar,—
Far rings the horn!
Hark to the bay of hound,
Tossed from the mountains 'round!
Hark to the horn!
Mount,—mount, and hark-away!
Bright dawns the glorious day,—
Soon we 've the stag at bay:
Loud wind the horn!
Tossed from the mountains 'round!
Hark to the horn!
Mount,—mount, and hark-away!
Bright dawns the glorious day,—
Soon we 've the stag at bay:
Loud wind the horn!
| The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival | |