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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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135

I SAT AND GAZED INTO THE BURNING SKY.

I.

I sat and gazed into the burning sky
Where, like a dying king, the parting day,
In calm, majestic prescience of decay,
Lighted his pyre that he a king might die.
And I, whose thought upsoars on wider wings,
Since thy pure soul has breathed into my life
A quickened kinship with diviner things—
I builded there, remote from din and strife,
A spacious solitude, where thou and I
Might reign untroubled by the pace of time.
How with thy fleetest wish the cloud would thrill,
And, like some sweet, unmeditated rhyme,
Bend with melodious impulse to thy will!
And I, strong in thy love, unquailingly
Would greet the gaze of dread eternity.
 

The author is well aware that this poem is not a sonnet, but as he cannot change it without ruining it, he prefers to print it as it is.

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