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Idyls of Norway and other poems

Boyesen, Hjalmar Hjorth (1848-1895)

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[section]
  
DEDICATION TO L. K. B.
  
THE LOST HELLAS.
  
ELEGY ON A. G. L.
  
AWAKE!
  
THE MINSTREL AT CASTLE GARDEN.
  
ELEGY ON PRESIDENT GARFIELD.
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IDYLS OF NORWAY.
  
BRIER-ROSE.
  
HILDA'S LITTLE HOOD.
  
THORALF AND SYNNÖV.
  
LITTLE SIGRID.
  
MARIT AND I.
  
THORA.
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EARL SIGURD'S CHRISTMAS EVE., Etc.
  
EARL SIGURD'S CHRISTMAS EVE.
  
NORWAY.
  
THE NIXY.
  
AN EVERY-DAY TRAGEDY.
  
THE ELF-MAIDENS.
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NORSE STAVES.
  
INTRODUCTION.
  
STAVE IN “GUNNAR.”
  
COME, FAIREST MAID.
  
TELL ME, ILKA.
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SONNETS.
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JUNO LUDOVISI.
 1. 
[I. White, silent goddess, whose divine repose]
 2. 
[II. Sublime the thought that dwells within this stone]
 3. 
[III. Come, gentle mother, and resume thy sway]
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EVOLUTION.
 1. 
[I. Broad were the bases of all being laid]
 2. 
[II. I am the child of earth and air and sea]
 3. 
[III. A sacred kinship I would not forego]
 4. 
[IV. I stood and gazed with wonder blent with awe]
 5. 
[V. Sublime is life, though in beginnings base]
  
TO BAYARD TAYLOR.
 1. 
I.—THE SEA.
 2. 
II.—THE AIR.
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TO LILLIE.
 1. 
I SAT AND GAZED INTO THE BURNING SKY.
 2. 
I SAW THE LILY PALE AND PERFECT GROW.
 3. 
WITHIN THE ROSE I FOUND A TREMBLING TEAR.
 4. 
HOW CAN I LIGHTLY SPEAK THY WONDROUS NAME.
 5. 
AN ANXIOUS WHISPER STEALS UNTO MY EAR.
 6. 
THY GRACIOUS FACE I GREET WITH GLAD SURPRISE.
 7. 
YES, MY OLD SELF IS DEAD; AND IT IS WELL.
 8. 
IF I SHOULD LOSE THEE, DARLING, AND BEHOLD.
 9. 
I SAW THEE DRIFTING, DRIFTING FAR AWAY.
 10. 
I WONDER OFT WHY GOD, WHO IS SO GOOD.
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CALPURNIA.
 1. 
I. PRELUDE.
 2. 
II. IN THE PALACE OF THE CÆSARS.
 3. 
III. IN THE FLAVIAN ARENA.
 4. 
IV. IN THE CATACOMBS OF ST. CALIXTUS.

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138

HOW CAN I LIGHTLY SPEAK THY WONDROUS NAME.

IV.

How can I lightly speak thy wondrous name,
Which breathes the airy fragrance of thyself,
As might, far straying from his flower, the elf
Hold yet a breath within his fragile frame
Of the flower's soul, betraying whence he came?
I too, beloved, though we stray apart,
Since in the vestal temple of thy heart
I dwell secure, glow with a sacred flame.
A breath of thy sweet self unto me clings—
A wondrous voice, as of large unborn deeds,
With deep resoundings through my being rings,
And unto wider realms of vision leads.
And dead to me are sorrow, doubt, and pain;
The slumbering god within me wakes again.
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