# Littell's Living Age/Volume 150/Issue 1933/Norwegian Sonnets

Originally published in Blackwood's Magazine.
* To Norroway, to Norroway,
* To Norroway owre the faem!
* I. UP THE SKAGER RACK.
* It was the point of dawn; and in the bow
* I stood alone, facing the grey north-east.
* Far on the left, like a huge brown sea-beast
* That had been chased and was o'ertaken now,
* Stolen on by night, lay Norway. From the prow
* A hissing of salt spray that still increased
* Rose plainly audible — for the gale had ceased
* And the keel cut the sea-plain like a plough.
* And so with only a ripple on the sea,
* And ne'er a storm-cloud o'er us muttering black,
* We voyaged with an easy course and free
* And — disappointing, now on looking back;
* For the old sagas make the surges flee
* Like riderless horses up the Skager Rack!
* II. THE SCENERY — GO AND SEE IT!
* And speak ye may of grandeur and of gloom
* And all the dread magnificence that lies
* Where through the dale the foam-flecked torrent flies,
* Or gorgeous sunsets o'er the mountains bloom.
* But who shall in the sonnet's scanty room
* Set the majestic magnitude, the size,
* The mighty mountains and the widening skies
* Up on Norwegian table-lands assume?
* This you must see to feel within your heart,
* And cannot know from others: nature still
* In this defies all imitative art,
* Baffles all schools and soars beyond their skill:
* It is a joy she only shall impart,
* But, once received, it ne'er can cease to thrill.
* III. A TERROR OF THE TWILIGHT.
* Far in Norwegian solitudes we strayed:
* Behind us lay a long bright summer day,
* But evening now was stooping o'er our way,
* When, at a sudden turn, alarmed we stayed.
* It was a terror by the twilight made
* Of river, cliff, and cloud, and the weird play
* Of sunset's one live liberated ray
* Piercing the horror of the pine-wood shade.
* Stood, like a charred cross, or a huge sword-hilt,
* Against the sky, above the cliff's black line,
* That seemed a bastion by Harfager built,
* A solitary thunder-blasted pine;
* On the dark flood below, the sunset spilt
* What now was blood and now was wassail-wine.
* IV. THE CLIMB FROM VALLE.
* Steep was the climb from Vallë: far below
* The sæter we had left lay lost in mist,
* And still the height rose higher than we wist
* Beyond the ravings of the Otteraa.
* And now a thin bleak air began to blow,
* And now the bispevei to turn and twist,
* Here round a tjern no summer ever kissed,
* And there behind a hide of hoarded snow.
* The stars dissolved anon; and airy trills
* Of wavering music showed the day begun:
* We toiled to meet the morn — o'er rocks, o'er rills;
* And, breathless but at last, our wish we won —
* The top! and, lo, a countless herd of hills
* Tossing their shining muzzles in the sun!
* V. "PAA HEJA:" Life on the Heights.
* Is there a pleasure can with this compare? —
* To leap at sunrise from your mountain bed,
* Roused by a skylark revelling overhead,
* And drink great draughts of golden morning air;
* A plunge, and breakfast — simple rural fare;
* Then forth with vigorous brain, elastic tread,
* Hope singing at your heart o'er sorrow dead,
* And strength for fifty miles, and still to spare!
* That joy was ours! O memory! oft restore us
* Those autumn runs, here in the smoky town,
* When through the woods our mad nomadic chorus
* Rang freedom up and civilization down!
* Io! my hearts! the world was all before us,
* And we nor owned nor envied king nor crown!
* VI. THE MOUNTAIN LAUREATE.
* Morning is flashing from a glorious sun
* On the broad shoulders of the giant fells
* That outreach arms across the narrow dells
* And form a silent brotherhood of one
* Listening their skylark laureate! New begun
* He up the heavens in ever-rising swells
* Carries their thanksgiving in song that wells
* From his small breast as if 'twould ne'er be done.
* What life his music gives them! They are free
* In the wild freedom of his daring wing;
* And in the cataract of his song, the sea
* Of poetry that fills all heaven, they sing;
* He is their poet-prophet in his glee,
* And in his work and worth their priest and king!

## Notes

* ↑ Mountain farm
* ↑ Pronounced Ottero
* ↑ Bridle-path
* ↑ Mountain lake, tarn
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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