HENRIK WERG ELAND
w ith Tran slation s by
I LLIT G R O N D A H L
1 b ad ! on l I in spirits , did you say I , who need y a glimpse of the sun to break out into loud laughter from a j oy I cannot expl ain !
‘ e t Wh n I smell a green leaf , dazed I forget p over y ,
r r an d . iches , f iends foes
My cat rubbing against my che ek smo othens all he art
sores . ’ m orr Int o my dog s eye I lower y .s ow s as in a d e ep
well .
ha My ivy s grown . Out of my window it has bo rne on its broad leaves i all the memor es I d o not care to keep .
The first spring rain will fall on the leave s and wipe
out some faithless names . They will fall down with the drops and p o ison the
- burrows of the earth worm .
1 These lines were written in reply to an editorial a rticle in “ “ Mo r e n b lade t h Mr W e r e lan d g , w ich had declared that . g M is angry and in bad spirits ( arch ,
5 I who read rapture in each petal of the hundred - leaved rose m e a p oor paper should cause to quell one second with vexation !
Tha t would be like killing sky - blue an d rose - coloured
butterflies .
u a . S ch sin , verily , my he rt recoils from
It would be like strewing ashes on my he ad which is
not yet grey , an d throwing away the diamonds of sp arklin g seconds
which Time yet sows the reon .
! S ’ Come on , journalists harpen your fox s claws on the rock ! You only tear off flowers and a little moss for a so ft
grave .
’ e Like the ins ct s sting in the mussel , insults breed
pe arls only in my heart .
They shall one day adorn the diadem o f my spirit .
I hate ! When a bird flies over my head my hate is a
thousand cubits hence .
e It melts away with the snow , it pass s with the first
wave s from the shore and far out to sea .
But w hy should not my veins be wroth ! Rob not the landscape of its rushing streams ! th e a Right honourable osiers , permit brook to fo m when it runs among boulders !
6 d I love not blue sky everlasting, as I do hate stupi
staring eyes .
a c i l H ve I n o heaven be ause it is full of drift ng c ouds , fairylands of the sun !
’ And if I had none — is not God s gre at and glorious enough ! Complain not under the stars of the lack of b right spots in yo ur life !
Ha ! Are they not t w inkling as if the y would speak to you !
H ow Venus sparkles to - night ! Have the he avens also spring ! ’ Now the st ars have shone all thro the winte r ; now c ah they rest and rej oi e . Halleluj !
What riches for a mortal ! ’ M v an d ha y soul rej oices in hea en s j oy o f spring , s ll r take pa t in that of the earth . n w It sparkles stronger than the ver al stars , and it ill
soon open with the flowers .
o Gl rious Eve ning Star ! I uncover m y he ad .
A c rystal bath up on it falls thy she e n .
There is kinship between the soul and the stars .
It steps in the starlight outside the curtain face ,
whose folds have disappeared .
The rays cover my soul with a calmne ss like that of l a abaster . m e n o Like a bust it stands within . Gaze i t its feature s !
N ow they are as you would have the m . The scornful i on es are la d .
My soul has but the mild smile of a corp se . Are you still afraid !
The rascal ! The bust has a laughing heart be neath
it s calm . Al as for your feeble fingers : you cannot get hold of that ! 1
e r e lan d This is Henrik W g himself , the fair Norway
‘ t ] the giant , wi h his pipe and his bow , beaming out of
w o i him . windo , thr ugh wh ch Nature is beaming in to m an d te This , whom we Norwegians eem our grea st
c r — lyri al p oet , is hardly known beyond the ske ry guard rock s of his native c o untry ; an d we cann ot but feel that h t e world is p o o rer for it .
Henrik W e rge lan d himself more than once expressed a longing that he . m ight have been born with a wider
* Th n a n . us 1 la guage , the droll phrenologic l lecture form ing the last o f those bright autobiographi cal
’ ske té he s H as s e l—N é dde r w h ; (Hazel Nuts) , hic he kept e he : D ath waiting t o write , says
‘ ' l D ze rve rke r o rosaiske Skrz te r a H e n rik W e r e la n d ig g p f f g , edited by
H . . . . 361. T o in si! v m Lassen , Vol I p his editi n olu es .
C n a 1886 f r o f o . ope h gen , , is re e red to throu gh ut the oll wing ’ The l a rge r edition by H a rtvig Lassen : H e n rik We rge la n d s ’ ‘ — Sa m le de Skrz e r . I I ! K a n a 185 o ut o f r n . fi , Vol , risti i , 7 , is p i t
A . n w n c omplete edition in 23 vols is o bei g published by H .
a an d D . A . S Ste e n sk e Fo rla K a n 19 19 J ger eip , g , risti ia , .
8 I w as— and that was my misfortune with a ” — language s o restricted nothing but a p oet . A sen se of this situation— a poet and prophet o f
universal import , with a message so significant to the
world which is now forming , and himself yearning for the contact with all mankind — is responsible for the production of the se translations ; linked with notes on his life and work , in the hope that through a fairly literal translation gleams of the original m ay somehow
d o ur reach rea ers o f English , and perhap s draw to poet some of the readers abroad o f the language of Bj ornson 1 and Ibsen .
r d W e r e lan d i Hen ik Arnol g was born at Kr stiansand ,
’ the a 1 1808 . on south co st o f Norway , the 7 th June , a e W e r e lan d His f th r , Nikolai g , then a teacher at the a e gramm r school , desc nded from a peasant family of
r o the weste n fj rds ; his mother , the lovely and lovable
e Thaulow e i . Alett , unit d a Dan sh and a Scottish ancestry
N W e r e lan d e h a ikolai g , a distinguish d aut or and s vant , was one o f the most active members of the Natio n al 1 1 Assembly at Eidsvold in 8 4. Three years later he ca h was app ointed vi r of Eidsvold . A wort y disciple of
Rousseau , this rationalistic clergyman took a keen r interest in the education of his child en , and particularly in the development of the extraordinary faculties of his
elde st son Henrik . Henrik throughout his life loved
1 Pa H . W . av n r e . . H . H . pers on h e bee w itten , g , by Lassen ,
Schw a n e n flii e l O . Skav a . T H . Mo r G e rh . G a g , l n , V roye , lle , r n , l an K ht — The fo — o ra a fa H a vd o . llowing notes the bi g phic l cts in whi c h a re m a inly draw n from the first a n d last - na m ed auth o rs — a re rest ri c ted by the selec tio n s which they a re inten ded to li n k together and do n o t a ttempt to gi ve more th a n the veriest glimpse o f our poet .
9 ' he foun d the and revered his father , in whom most
intelligent defender of his literary production , while his heart wholly and in mo re direct sympathy went out
to his mother .
an d a The hills dells round Eidsvold , the historical
‘ laoe i e p insp ring rev rence for country and constitution , m made a glorious playground for ventureso e children . w Henrik gre up a sound soul in a sound body , strong u e and hardy , a lover of o tdoor life , and with a gl am
in his eyes which was e arly n oticed by his parents .
Eleven years old he was sent t o scho ol at Kristiania .
; t History was from the first his favourite subjec , later
n h b ota . e s on also s y So on was making his first attempt At as an a uthor . the age of thirteen there appeared
M or e n blade t a Blodste n e n in g short romantic tale , (The
e W e r e lan d - Blo od Stone) , sign d W g ; g in later years
the had , as he has himself related , honour of seeing it entered in a reader with sign ature in full— Washingt on Irving !
During the following ye ars of the ological study W e r e lan d g lived by turns at Eidsvold and in the town , an d prod uced a growing alarm in home circles by his ’ l a the e fu l p articip tion in wild student s lif of the times , t ffl wi h revels , brawls , shu es with the police , and mis l h chief genera ly . Being t e best of comrades and highe r than any of the pe ople from his shoulders and w up ard , he became quite naturally the leader o f the ’ h h students corp oration , w ic then played a part in the life of the young capital .
10 The ye ar 182 7 marks an epoch in the history of
W e r e lan Norwegian literature . g d then met with
e Shakespeare , who , if he did not open his ey s , at least ’ (through the me dium of F o e rsom s Danish translation) ”
. e lo osened his tongue Nothing els satisfies me now ,
e he declared , and the desire for expr ssion of what had
- awakened in him made him , the sky breather , wish
- to lock himself up , Balzac wise , in a black little attic , and live as in an inkhorn . Anyhow , during the next eighteen years (t he second half of his life — time) there e flowed from his pen plays , poems , articl s , magazines
the for the people , works treating of most varied depart e e m nts of life , ver for the cause of Humanity , for the he Kingdo m of God as saw it .
Th e direct influence of Shakespeare is especially noticeable in his first works, a s in the farce A h ! 2 M ab Scene , where Queen has literally been i hi w th m .
The Dream Genius speaks :
- A diamond is my imagin ation ,
Cut thousand - edged ; my reason ever ’ ’ Peers thro it as thro a kale idosc ope ’ Or tis a Chinese gam e which in a thousand Fresh forms my reason puts— Hallo !
I e split asund r easily , arising m d A his sing rocket , co ing own as ten . Same time I play upon a sleepy sexton : W ho hears b ell—ringing— and upon a grocer :
or m e — a : she F thwith he bacon s lls maid laughs ,
11 Her pillow kissing— then I touch a king an d a He struts feels majestic , seeing th t ’ re ! re ! re ! . With phosphorus I paint him , , ,
In the more imp ortant play I rre pam bile Te m pus ’ he a d is occ sionally at the master s si e , as where he (Scene 1) touches on the different attitudes t oward Life
Now , some are lying still A n d i sleeping all the t me , rending the darkness Only with yawns— like to the sleep er saints d Till own the ro of comes by itself , and they M ust swallow half the final snore and come , i Rubbing their stupid , bl nking eyes , into
The fresh air blowing just beyond the wall .
r r The y a e the lazy ones . But others un About and madly scratch with tooth and claw
l e i The murky wal on ev ry side , unt l s It crumbles , creak , and lets in the fierce sunshine That scorche s them like withered grass : the ir force
e . Was sp ent , inst ad o f gradually growing
the H owever , the drama was not form of art best ’ n suited to W e rge la d s genius . As the world grew on s e his opening ense , the great uniting lin s overshadowed
. m details To him ankind , a living , changing being ,
— an d p art of a larger one clasping the earth - ball like ’ the finge rs o f God s ha nd — is m ore actually M an than the individual is . He lived too intensely in the world the c e o f ideal to become a areful delin ator of character , and his me n and women (angels and dem ons more
1 t n . 8 0 h i Vol IV.
12 ' often) are all p oe t s linke d to everyday reality in most W e r e lan d incongruous attitudes . g is nothing if not
— — lyrical and at the outset at least anything but critical .
l Ve n e tian e rn e -e tian s 18 1 His greatest p ay is (The Ven ) , 4 , a drama of friendship and love .
Friendship and love were the dominating factors in ’ r l n d his a s W e ge a s life . But to the objects of p s ion it must often have been as though he gaze-d through the m at something far beyond their ordin ary familiar selves .
d he his A handful of very ear friends had , but most of co m rades found him too violent and overbearing . On his death - bed W e rge lan d admitt e d that he never did
P —“ succee d in mastering his vanity . robably as with
o ff t — m Th reau , though for di eren reasons ore loved him his than liked him . Taking arm was to be raised on
' h f u it . T ere is a story o his rushing p t o a new
n an d i o ff th e e - : acquainta ce fir ng qu stion , p oint blank ” W ill ou b e m rie n d ! Y e s than k ou— at a y y f , y ” distan ce e . His g nial openness and exuberant cordiality rather repelled than attracted his individual i ti d ‘ a re s c . Th e A . . countrymen wor s o f l O Vinje typical : That man ever use d such big words ; it has always seemed to me that there was more of noise and ” m W r e lan d . e motion than of deeper e otion Yes , g could afford it ; he w as in league with the buildin g
e r d forces of was a much o e d man . Rock and tundra m ust be shy of s uch luxuriant growth ; as ” W e r e lan d when Henrik g greets Sylvan , a B otanist , with a s ong recallin g the first time the y met on the e w border b t een life and death , a last streak of snow like . a fleeting pallor on the mead ow
13 ' u O f the bl e ice a passing sheen , when to the first faint smile of green a lark p oured down its song
’ e - Com the colt s foot , the coy anemone , and the march violet oping its heavens— till from the dark depths of the earth its fire sparks out in d andelion and ranunculus .
I f on thy bosom cold , O Earth ,
such glory we may see , i then , Sylvan , surely fairer b rth from ours in blossom shall call forth the Spirit ’s Let there be ! 1
the the ea The idea of friendship , institution of d r ” d the love o f comra es , is sap o f a very great part of ’ r lan d r W e ge s p oet y . One of his earliest poems for which the author had a certain p redilection , is addresse d
P K R E FTI N G MY I ETER , FR EN D WHO HAS DIED
’ Ah ! how the stars do sparkle : my frie nd s
spirit is now passing by , w onward , to s ell the the crowd of spirits .
’ Now did it glide twixt me and a star , as from the altar the blue incense b efo re the
hi - t gh lifted orches .
1 F Ti! S lva n . . 139. rom y Vol I , p
14: ’ al ! l a ' Death s couch ( as ) the a t r , and lo Pht hisis the priestess , whose knife ever is blunt , yet sure and thirsty .
! Ha I will mock at Fate , who shall now nought find in me anymore , nothing to filch with k ’ greedy cro o d finger .
o F ols can only curse Fate ; as for me ,
: Coward I call him he flees , whe n neath the lyrical ivy I rustle leaves whi ch his fingers grasping shall miss ;
” e th y are the garb of my soul , inwoven in thy ! memory , Dead One
Fearle ss and faithful fut ure w ard lo ok
such is the glittering wand , that which determines ’ Fate s every fo otstep .
Reek not dim vapour from my heart - string ! I e Sooner a ray will s nd , after the spirit n se d a ray sooner .
a o Now c nst thou learn the lay of the w rlds , now— like a butterfly on ’ a n He ve s full roses ,
ar- u st cl sters , clinging
15 draw pure the honey given to man th fouled in e ancient horn , wriggling with darks ome hi hieroglyp cs .
’ e d S e st thou thy frien , cheek resting on hand , neither in sorrow nor j oy to an ZE olian harp he is listening !
Was it thy spirit floating upon ! w aves of the bre ath - fondled g old W as it a wind which kissed my brow lightly !
: Spheres are thy harp to silvery strings , ’ trembling , on Heaven s broad blue
e — d shi ld rims exten ed , now canst thou listen !
just when thy death became known to thy friend , stars shot from Heaven ; they came hasting to hail the
- o new comer welc me , as from the lake a white - bosomed flock e starts toward the first br ath of spring , rising with cries on i wings w de outstretching .
— e Venus did send , forth b aming , a sweet
— white veiled Stella , a guide ’ t o the goo -d beings star to conduct thee .
16
a al l W rm for thy land , the rights of men , h t ou every tyrant didst hate , whe ther a sceptre
or a pen wielding .
Friend ! a birth merely to thee was th y death little the child knows t he pangs felt by its mother
Life was thy mother .
Ree k not dim ! vapour from my heart - string ! Sooner a ray I will send i after the spir t ,
out of tears beaming .
Song is its wing , and so it will not drown in the cloud — deeps without reaching at last thy ha stening shadow ! 1
The years 182 7 - 2 9 mark the most signifi cant period ’ in our p oet s life , the time of the unfolding of his ge nius . Alongside of his the ological studies he assimi lated the ideas o f the great writers of the eighteenth
r centu y , together with the early songs of liberty and dawning philosophy of evolution of th e nineteenth . Byron for a long time gr ipped and overshadowed his s off oul like a bird of prey , which he sho ok at last in 2 a storm at se a .
1 Vol . I , p . 7 . 2 ’ W e rge lan d s rela tio n s to By ron (a n d La m a rtine) a re the subje c t of ’ n P f. Chr. C A tla n tis K a o f an interesti g article by ro ollin in , ri 1 1 Jan . 9 9 . ’ W e rge lan d s greatest work w as now forming within
- his him , the world poem to which life was to be the
o m he d - c m entary , and which recast on his eath bed , in o rder that men sho uld unde rstand his message . Deep an d dark was the gestation of this titanic work until it ’ W e r e lan sprang forth armed and shining . In g d s own
o - metaphorical language , mete r swarms of philosophic an d a d e historic l matter , fin ing their common c ntre of
e gravitation , were hurled , one blazing com t , headlong towards the sun . The force welding together all these ’ hete rogenous materials was the youthful poet s passion ” an an . for a maiden fair d radiant , unrequited passion The desire to appear; with all his being before the loved an d e one , the rejection of his love , so to sp ak , into the
e o re ation whol universe , brought forth the p em of C , M a a he M e s iah n n d t s .
Skab e ls e n M e n n e s ke t o M e ssia-s 2 0 , g , a work of 7
o ff 1 pages , was written during the year 829 , the year in h which he passed his examination in t eology , and 18 0 th p ublished in 3 . A grand poetic overture to e July ” Revolution , says the discerning and sympathetic
. Schw an n flii e l Danish critic , H e g ; and he adds , with 1 the M e n n e s ke t M an 18 regard to revised edition , ( ) of 45 “ It is available for anyone who is not altogether ta unpoetical , and whose soul is not to lly deaf to the ” 2 e sup reme probl ms of life .
h In giving a few traits of this p oem or prop ecy , which for intensity o f conception an d loftiness of vision cannot o M be ranked bel w Dante and ilton , we shall employ
1 Vo l. 111 . 516. , pp 1’ H k W e r e lan d E n lite rarhisto risk skitse . 2 8 enri g , , p 7 .
19 M an c the second edition , , the one in whi h the dying
e poet wish d his message to reach mankind .
t The author re ains , in a revised form , the foreword
re atio n : to C , with the following n ote
“ ‘ Although this dithyram b -ic represents the sixteen a ye rs younger poet , and not the reviser , and thus might
t o b seem n ot elong here , it is still given , in the present
e form , becaus it holds the key to the genesis o f the po em— the statement o f the connection between the ’ youn g p oe t s p lat on ic love and the res olve to write down a work like the following, cut short by the sense
e e of his being overwh lm d by his subject , by the All ” invading him .
This may justify an attem pt at rendering these un couth lines :
TO AN ILLUSTRIO US POET 1
M é se n — e By j , the heart of my country loud b ating beneath H e idm ark H e l e the full breasts of , where g y arises ,
b lushing pride of the motherly bosom . ’ e Skre a - Wh re y , midsummer sun s hostel with golden red open ’ - a h the m cloud g te , w ere stor s whinnying foal and the vapours ’
1 Viz . H e n rik Ste e n s h c a m a n d f , to whom (wit other h pions of truth ' ' do w a s c a The r a ak JV se n free m) the poem dedi ted . g e t l e j o , f a H e l e a n d a f f d with its air isl nd g the bro d , ruit ul istricts of H e de m a rke n a fr m a fe w r , stretches northw rds o miles n o th of '
E vo . M t. Skre za the h o f k so ids ld , on southwest s ore the la e is , ' ak the - a of W e r e lan d s . to spe , mid air st rting point g poetry
20 ’ car r est thro the night , at morning to foam over h t e w aters . e d the s Where h a long into the waves mount plunge ,
o z a birch rises up , with anxi us rustle and di zily bent
at once springing back .
There h in a boy with his arp is sitt g Hear , ten o f its strings l e n s ound like the s ow bells of sadn ss , like otes of the blackbird
fire — ten like spluttering Hell do shriek , thrice ten like a hymn —trembling te mple resounding
! - d of ! Fifty harp strings Nay , gol en kingdoms Stella
But hush ! Lonely they sigh like th e valley d n o wan erer visits .
o And ver them all n ow sorrow is ruling , an old jaundic e d monk .
a - ! A ! Fifty h rp strings y, golden kingdoms of Stella
e h The thron is deserted , and t ey ’ e e a n ath an oc an o f an rchy moaning .
h T en , Stella , like free Tomyris , reign over howling desert !
Waste where no echo would answer
u d . e ven thy name , sho l st thou cry
21 ! Alas or live in thy oasis , lone like Ze n obia proud !
Thy eyes— lo ! living source s l 1 Thy lips — roses of Jericho !
Thy cheek is a palm - grove in sunrise glowing !
— Palm re an Thy teeth y columns , built of alabaster !
! But , woe Legions are coming , days frosty are coming .
’ Th e y bosom neath the yok darkening , thy he art droops like a conquered banner .
n The pillars of Tadmor are broke .
M o ths flutter by Now stillness is reigning .
The n the n a ! Lo e , where is Stell , h re is my harp with on e broken string !
’ tho — Not till in Heaven , hardly a bow shot from
Skre a y , ’ a l eap from my seat neath the trembling bent birch , shall I recove r the broken one whole ;
Stella kneeling entwines it .
‘ ’ ‘ ‘ It broke , she will say ; that time thou with anxious c alling my feigned playful flight didst pursue .
1 h n T e tra slator was sorely tempted to substitute Shardn .
22 — — in - W e were running rash play l a church yard , ’ we both stu m bled into a grave .
o s ! — Hush , l ved one , hu h thus I interrupt her I found thee at last in thy flight ’ ! did I n ot se ize thee mongst stars Immortality is our dow ry ; b - rm e eams our wedding ga nt , thine white as the stars , mine silvery golden ; on the heights of the blest stands our home ; Messiah weds us for Eternity ; ’ ’ the seraphs strike up ; we dance thro radiant Heaven .
N ow — Bard l— m e is e y sadn ss j oy , my j oy b comes ’
- song neath the birch tree , S th u Song , ong between Heaven and Ear , p here whe re a pair of
d e - eagles that nigh have hi den th ir nest , swift rushing
d o fan me , song , song of Heaven and Earth , song o f the nature
o f Souls . Fo r se e ! Like the falcon t o loftie st solitude rising
w the - s just hen ring dove it mis ed , then s oaring most m cal ly , ’ ’ e en tho as nothing h ad happe ned— I seek consolation ’ ’ here in my castle of solitude gainst the maid s hardness :
e here on my mount , on my dizzy l dge W ith the
- birch tree ,
d e here on my moun , my soft flowering hillock wh re every w at sorro once is turned into heavenly visions .
23 There n o w is leaning my he ad while p ondering deep
the n ature of Love , on how it can be that a woman ’ coy as the white w ater - lily s o fair that fl0ats neath the a surface , " alth o its corolla is ripe and full like the young maiden ’s bosom o e has a o e p w r my soul to govern , my strong will , l n ,
without limit , as if in each look a blue —glimmering steel net we re thro w n p ow er has the be at o f my heart absolutely to me asure : ’ b - a the soon as the ell gainst the temple w ll , or as billow s break on the rocks ; then again— by a casual smile
- w l a b utte rfl . slo with inaudib e be t , softly as y wings
’ ! T s c e a o l s Ah hree e onds p ce , and my s u at the b orde rs o f realms of thought and of dream ing . a Spirits lready accost me ,
d . some of them speaking , others just beckoning mil
— ’ Hu sh- l on e is w hisp rin g Once in the days of i creat on a. p air o f serap hs did seek them ’ ’ home s in Adam s and Eve s
r ! slumbe ing hearts ; from them you both do de sce n d .
Alas ! The y could not recognise o n e an othe r— b ut
vaguely , r sec etly fee l on e another .
24
Oh ! daring design ! I tremble .
All Nature has heard it .
ch a Rustling the bir to the l ke gave it , r ushing the lake to the shore rolls it .
’ Th un d rin g the All breaks up on me : P ! a ! See , oet Am I not Love , Love lone Forget uht the stars ! Forget not the flower !
’ Forget not the worm in the dust !
are And the stars , one by one , approaching , l s a ike full , hining s ils ; b ! the easts break out from forest , he mming me in with kind looks ;
the rises snake in the heather , proud as a king who his kingdom is viewing ;
a t o the flowers , their he rts disclose , are
all op e ning .
n - m All wa ts to be sung in the Love p oe , all there is being nothing but Love .
’ Angui sh ! anguish ! I am o e rw he lm e d
e by heavenly visions and gr atness of worlds , by the motley whirl of the living .
M - yriad voiced the All rushes on me , confuses with thick - crowding vi sions
s that I , who hould in the midst of its z enith sit like immovable eye , s olitary ,
’ am I w hirl d on myself , like a mote among motes .
26 Illustrious Poet ! Would by my harp thou wert
seated , thy hands to my brow swe et coolne ss returning 1 the laurels for which it is burning !
the m - A bir e i :orou In opening scene RQ ij , _ a , v g s s e t al s irit an d Ol l § l a e , l fizi_, hov r over g p jg m fi p e i the steaming planet . Th y continue the r intercourse Ohe b ie l r from some other globe of matter , exho ting to
’ - kneel and pray in God s fresh , reeking foot prints ,
A birie l refusing to w o rship what he cannot grasp with his understanding .
With a brush truly dipt in th e sun the drama of d l creation is unfol ed , ti l the acme of organic evolution “
- is re ached in the first se mi human pair . In sleep ’
- neath the oak tree the spirit with dust is united , resid
d - ing to quiet within its bloo heated dwelling . Awake ,
the e he , sceptre o f consciousn ss seizing , shall cry out the password of sp irits : I am ! But impatient A b irie l
r he re breaks into the plan . Longing to hear once mo e the music of nerves and to rest in flesh , he buries him in self the body of the man , thrusting its slumbering
d n ‘ n h as in sti ct i . O e b ie l spirit asi e to dwell , , the blo od
— is left aghast at this spirit suicide , and , seeing the disaster which would issue from man ’s union with a e e low r b ing , descends into the body of the woman , t hus t o draw him upwards and on .
One spirit himself from Heaven did banish ; ” the t - sacrificin o her , self g, did follow .
1 — vo l. 111 . 1 6. , p
27 Dark i s the road which mankind has to travel , drag
e o ging along prop rty , stumbling int war , weltering in r o mise ry . It is with a sense of elief that we , after t iling thr ough this part of the poem with its everlasting chain i of conspiracies between tyrants and pr ests , see a first ra the a straggling y of light , a messenger of hum n m e n spirit . A throng of are waiting outside a prison door ; a listener report s :
No m ore the laugh o f Socrates I hear
! enopho n weeping Plato speaks n o m ore .
e the At l ngth life of the Saviour , rising against all a e u dversity , realises the id al of tr th , love , and freedom , and re gains Paradise— the reco gnition of God in Self th i n o m o re to be lost . The p oem closes with an e n us astic prophetic vision of the destiny of M an : Earth M l i i l’ e P e an . A b r e s has become lik aradis , and g orious glowing fire is blended in the race with the mild spirit
— Ohe bie l . e o in de ths o f o f How ver , in w man the p her h r in the ea t , in the smile on her lips , blushing roses of
he r — her cheek , in the deep , clear well of eye dwells ’ Ohe b ie l s u the spirit , heavenly p re , whilst flames o f A b irie l a e m an fl sh stronger from the h art of the , even ’ h as the diamo nd s core of lig t .
The mighty spirit of Man n ow n o longer feels its flesh an d b lood as a chain on its hands and a bolt at its
- . e i e foot Like the f athers o f b rds mer ly , and a rose leaf
a . g rb , does it feel the weight of its body
The u bright day of Truth , the voices of D ty , and the wing - beat of Liberty t riump hant over treacherous
28 desire , fill the temple o f his brow , while in his heart
e - burns still and mild the heav nly fire of Brother love , i radiant from h s outstretched hands .
‘ The n every human being has a throne within his
an d . brain , in his heart an altar and sacred vessels
Everyone I S a king to the Earth and a priest to God .
’ W e rge lan d s work has the strength and the defects of
o e spontaneity . His soul exp anding fr m Heav n to ” h Hell shatters t e old fo rms . Emerging into the un iversal spring o f cre ation he is bes ide himself with
j oy . He nce his style cannot be expected t o satisfy the ’ ’ ro r'ié té clarté brié ve te French critic s demand for p p , , , “ ” e é o dr t n tte t r e . m an o , If a has anything say , the Walde n declares author of , it drops from him ”
e the . simp ly and directly , as a ston falls to ground ’ But that which come s from W e rge lan d s hand rises into the air and flies , nor is it always easily caught . He has
o f i his own way thinking into w nged forms , which in the case o f his w vritin gs never leaves doubts about i the authorship . We are overwhelmed by a bewilder ng avalan che o f im ages — for he could think only in the concre te— page — long peri o ds whe re syntax is on the
“ rack . He himself humorously complains that :
By parenthe ses unnumb e red the reader is e ncumbered ; but als o for the author they are horns ’ ram ! entangling him like Abram s in thorns .
e r ever more hopel ssly , in sor y trim , ’ o where he won t get his th ught , but the critic w ill ” him .
29 W e rge lan d embraces such a number of things with
the simultaneous inte rest . By means of yellow sp ot
un o n e in the backgro d of the eye , we see thing in one moment while the surrounding objects merge int o
W e r e lan d vaguene ss . In g the whole background of t he e eye is golden , and wh n all that has bee n gathered there is to b e rende red in the long succession of written
e z words , the lines may oft n take on the shape of a ma e
— e the h always , how ver , with something at centre wort
the se arch .
a an d e The faults and flaws , bsence o f taste s nse of
the r p roportion , which are s o very evident in ea lier e are due o po ms , mainly to the fact that he could nly improvise— rush on and on without ever looking M ' M b . re ation an an d the e ssiah he ack C , , which had proposed t o read to some l ady acquaintances at the
- e t o t h tea table , grew in a few we ks a leng o f more h t an 7 00 pages . His pen flies so fast that it sometimes
t o e . seems slip the paper , and we miss the trace altogeth r The re is truth in th e picture o f thought rising and
sinking in its flight , while the word , its shadow , must " — the . follow along ground the loftier , the dimmer
’ To contemporary critics W e rge lan d s exuberant
m e e b . . imagery was i pen trable , and , head d y J S Wel W e r e lan haven , they declared g d to be anything but a
a th . p oet , and a madm n more an anything else
W e lhave n o expressed fully his lack of c mprehension , th a h a t ogether wi s ome sound est etic rgument , in a ’ revie w of W e rge lan d s P o e tics an d P ole m ics to which Nikola i W e rge lan d replied in the following ’ year with A J us t Criticism of H e n rik W e rg e lan d s
30 e r W e r e lan d W e lhave n P o e try an d Charact . g and represent two — as yet separate and w arring—“ forces underlying human progress : the desire for lib e rty and e r the the desire for ord . They are leading names in 18 0 18 the intellectual history of Norway from 3 to 45, W e lhave n considering pup ilage under Denmark still
W e r e lan d necessary , g striving to call out all national forces and fructify the m through direct contact with as w ide a world as possible .
Poets only— so the Indian saying is— are m oved by
e the the words o f p oets ; as the moonb ams raise ocean ,
W e r e lan d r . the but not the water in wells . g f om first ha d only a small knot o f understanding readers , with a wider ring of more doubtful app lauders who felt that ‘ l H om thin un usua . e here was s e g . may well describe himself as the tongue of a bell which is wrapped in a But W e r e lan d thick , damp covering . Henrik g had the same absolute faith as William Blake and Walt
W hitman .
Ve ry similar expressions o f the universa l unity occur in all these poets . To Emerson the underlying feeling an d the faculty of b eing caught up into the life of the r P h universe is the very sou ce of p oe tic vision . er ap s no one yet came nearer than Henrik W e rge lan d to ’ e - Emerson s ideal of a po t priest , a reconciler , who
a Shake s e are ' the sh ll not trifle with p player , nor shall
‘ grope in grave s with Swedenborg the mourner ; but ” w ho act u shall see , sp eak , and with eq al inspiration .
To this spirit , religion and life are naturally one thing. W e r e lan d w g ould not have religion put in any corner , w e h ther of time or of space . Religion to him was as t a wide as the world it moves . In h t city of the future
ch Wlilliam he i whi , like Blake , was consc ously building , Love w as the gravitation causing the stones t o cling h together . To t e sense which is awake to the actual
- sacrifice living connection of every being , self is as much a matter o f course as the flowing of water from a higher level to a lower . A new word in morals is
‘ d : e altruism as here wante g might be suggested , th uniting e ancient opp osites . Are not Religion and ” P the ! olitics same thing Brotherhood is Religion , says William Blake .
The consciousness o f his calling as a p oet , and how
d W e r e he understoo it , appears so often throughout g ’ land s work that we must reme m be r that he w as up ’ holding his vie w o f t he poet s office again st the prevail
-s ing one . He expresses him elf at large in an article On the Y oun Sw e dish P oe t R idde rstad g , (January , in which he charges contem p orary Danish literature with aiming exclusively at entertainme nt : it is a sop -ha ~ d literature . The ancient bards kindled their au ience t o doughty deeds . They did n ot lock their souls up in
e . h cabin ts , but went to their work in the world T ey lived in spheres which the ir times did not yet touch ;
/ their son gs w e re prophecies . We want p oets who H h do n ot live in eaven , thence to spit on Eart ; men a s in who are m sters of their ideals , and who ideali e The e order t o realise . true p oet can only b long to
r . one party , that of Heaven and o f a bettered Ea th For a sh o rt while he had followed Oe hle n schlage r and e a e r Tegn r with coupl of ballads and a vigorous pictu e ,
' ' ’ 1 ' — 0 m de n n n e sve n ske sk ald R zddde rsta a . . . 184 194. g j Vol V , pp
32
In his strife he is Speeding over a great open se a ; dimly distant as stars other white sails surr ound him : there heroes with dragons are fighting as he .
’ Forwards over an e er dawning blue the hi ssing bows
glide .
- - Blood stained the ankle ; the forehead high lifted , bright shining ’ n ot H e av n l i . hawks , y spir ts up on it d o ride
s e Happy the hero hall rest in his ship , d ep in a mound ; ’ b ut r it s he lives the e , yea lives , neath roof decked with l vio ets , and his name aye in songs of the spirits does sound .
B ard ! That mound shalt thou praise ! D ost thou not se e its fair crest ! ’ Se e st not the glittering shield on its summit ! the t ! all , w aving lilies that shine on its breast
’ e e ! S e st not the h ro fainting under the heavens , alone e nor the fierce , crown d eagles that daring do seat them , where spirits have ch osen their temple and throne !
Did not snake - chaine d Humanity up from the dust rise at last ’ a m off th Sh ke the serp ents fro it , like aspen its dead le aves
A dull rattling crown was each link that it cast .
A VOI CE
Woe ! The black snake is hanging yet at its fo ot like a bolt !
34 Se e it yawning wide in the Vatican portals its crown as the d ome doe s the heavens assau lt .
Woe ! C aes arian eagles are sitting ye t on its brow ! ’ Thro the eyes to the brain they are b ackin g ; tears only
- in the empty eye hollows are glistening now .
W oe ! Long , uniformed ranks are winding , like
e s - serp nts teel grey , ’ round Humanity s limbs the ir coils ever tighter ; every heart that dare beat the y would stifle and slay .
TH E FI R ST VOI CE :
Bard ! In heavens whe re Time has n ot entere d with e measur d pace , i e re b the Seer with V ctory dwells the attle , an e r a d togeth with Hope so rs in front of the race .
d Flies not his vision ahea of all time , ahead o f the world ! ’ The earth - ball behind rolls Histo ry s thunder ’ ’ - h rl d the song o f the Seer s the lightning forth u .
On the dome of an un opened heaven rest thy stringed shield : soon it will become (like the s e heavens star - Spangled) ’ ’ ” 1 - l tt a de w g i rin g mound on a century s field .
W e r e lan d sur S o Henrik g , with face lighting up his d roundings , went out over his own land , oing there his e m con ve n viking d eds , rooting up dead stu ps of
1 1 80. Vol . , p .
35 ' w n e w tion , so ing , planting life (from trees to libraries) , giving a hand to every undertaking which could help e a to raise his peopl , being like the gre t leader in battle
— e ve r w he re y . There never was a man with a larger p ortion of th 1 aw ake n e ss . w divine faculty of But the a akener ,
hi . according to story , is never a desirable person
M d - u ost people are go o nat red nincompoops , ” 2 Hating no one but him th at would awake them .
What a comm otion this man was making ! H ow he b a did stalk about , ringing his rough Norwegian m nners ,
i i e dan c s d . clothes , and language into the capital Orator an d leader of processions on Constitution Day , the
1 th M a o 7 of y, for a time editing an opp sition paper of ” 3 the d ill repute , and (in prou est moment of his life ) witnessing from his box in the theatre the rout of his literary opp onents in a regular battle at the pe rform
Th ll c' lo sa an ce of his play e Cam p b e s . As in the s l
t e e e t statues which heir nation l aves them , the f of these great m e n are s o much in evidence— seen from a lower p oint of view . Journalists buzzed and lawyers stung , while offended authorities tried t o pin him down with
h is h actions for lib el . ard luck for Henrik W e rge ” m e a land , rails a conte porary scribbl r , to h ve to fight a swarm of pygmies that are unable t o grasp his r e al P l greatness . osterity no doubt wil Y e s ! The true proportions w ill some times com e out i w th the distance .
1 I f this wo rd may be used to su ggest that it is fo r the go ds to be
a a k a n d o d k to a v a s m c o f fa as . w e , g li e h e u h this culty possible ”H n n /e l l e a e V o . 111 . 254. , . p 3 ' ’ H a sse ln oa de r V o l. . 419 . , VI , p
36 W e rge lan d would occasio n ally let what he called his ” - Si u l Si adda satirical twin brother , f f , enter the lists for him— in his farce s and he always depo rted him ” 1 h as . self b rave ly . But he other allies as well He
opens his window and lets in the first butterfly , that it M may warm itself in the b osom of his rose . ore proud
himself than the cold world without , he has need of 2 At the the love of these little ones . time when he was toiling with studies for his the ology examination he t might fling the book in o a co rner , snatch up his little e an d a se e lam rabbit , , g zing into its dim eye , would the ’ 3 cre ation s o f worlds in vista deep and far . His room at
e Eidsvold rectory , and lat r on in his own house ,
G ro tte n h i The Grotto in the outskirts of C r stiania , was like a natural history museum with a zoological
. an d garden in addition He kept a d og , a cat , a fox t o e the r an d h d ! The g , _ made t em frien s reptiles , how
e — u s— e s he ever , were given notic as his wife tells wh n moved in . There really never was any serpent in ’ W e r e lan d s ! d ou t m g Eden He was never riven , but see s ’ to h ave remained in that garde n o f the world s youth
Pan P Ve sle brn n e n as in aradise . His good horse
w ho (Brownie) was a faithful companion , carried him : e on his back on his summ r excursions , and in winter ’ 4 - l n in a boat like sleigh of W e rge a d s o w n construction .
1 . . 443 . Vol VI . , p
” — D e n rste som m e r u l V o l. . 194 19 . j b f g I , pp 7
' 8 Cf. E d w a r Ca r n r : Tow a rds D e m ocra c . 1 5 C h d pe te y , p 7 ome ni g — little bi rd with you r h a lf- st ret c hed q ui ve ri n g wi n gs withi n you
o ho r o f A n a n d o rd m f v a . I beh ld c i s gels , the L hi sel in ist 4 W n n fl n aft a n d m a ra n o n d fo r ith e sig yi g s ll b ss g u s either si e , “ n T ra f r la a r v n sa luti g . its o W e ge n d a t h o me e gi e in his '
fr n d R . G . a a m ok N orwa a n d the N orw e ia n s ie L th s bo y g ,
o n 1840. Lond ,
37 E ve r thin H e y g to him was alive and lovable . was in
'
love with the open air , and its vitality pervades his o the e v o ot w rk ; these are living l a es as of a tree , a f
drin -ke r according to the vigorous Sanskrit term , grasp the r h the s e the ing ea t close ; also , raised high in
- u in e . s nlight , are gath rers of cosmical energy He
o r the -s o c nve ts sunbeam int j oy , and commits his cares i to the broad leaves of his vy. His resentment evaporates
IN THE OPE N AIR .
- an d Fly , Spring time fair , so light gay , Fly not with all my spite away ! I fain my ange r would have given
- O n e . gloomy hour , by hail storms riven
m In stor y bursts of hail and snow , h — whic would the blossoming fruit trees throw ,
that hour must plunge its glowing ember ,
where in my wrath I should remember .
Now deep in the soft grass it lies , ’ sweeter than Love s near touch it dies .
- As in warm jets of heart blood living ,
my ange r dies away forgiving .
r I f , once awakening , my sco n
would start a chase and blow the horn , ’ I d have t o stop for laughter soo n n at singing g ats , frogs out of tune .
38 d When the sun shines my gru ge is gone , Su ch ugly word was neve r known to sound from waves upo n the beach e ! Sw et choir , how gently dost thou teach
H ow fair and kindly gre etings pass
m n h — m that e mig t s e e l fro gras s to grass . A withering straw , he fades away why miss the gladness o f the May !
r Itself a colou ed ray , a snake , basks in the sun ; I will n ot sh ake
— W it from my ankle thou , poor ight , art innocent ! Live and delight !
u O f poison , in this blissf l minute , ’ the n snake s fa g has no least drop in it .
the t Why should I mind least those o hers , that crawl about on my bo ok - covers !
Come to the wedding o f the thrush ! Wildly but well from his twig (hush ! ) ! he sings , your criticisms and (shocking ) your codes of art heartily mocking .
’
- ! Oh , spring time s sweet and fragrant air Believe that sylphs are breathing there ; but blend not with its breath the dank ’ the mouldy sigh— twere poison rank !
- And thou , bird cherry tree , dost bend , ’ o er my l ow hut , a sheltering friend . ’ Thy shade thou ne er to anger yield ! The re may no festering sorrow build !
39 Next spring thou shalt , far as I know , scatter my grave all with thy sn ow ;
l flow e re ts or , wi l its drop inside P the cup I kiss , who have no bride M errily shake them to the ground ,
’ ’ altho they fall on my grave - mound ! ’ M ay Beauty s soulful lover there ’ make him his seat in th o pen air !
M a aligner , se t you there , and more love Nature than you did before ! e The secret th n you might acquire , ” 1 what sound - board she did give my lyre !
’ W e r e lan d s Outwardly , Henrik g life did not seem r successful . For yea s he was continually applying for
as an app ointment a clergyman , though , considering
-e d his attitude towards the tenets of the establish church , it may b e more of a mystery that he should have applied h 18 than that e should n ot have succee ded . In 34 he began studying medicine in order to gain his living as a o o e his u 18 6 d ctor , but disc ntinu d st dies in 3 , when he obtained an assistant librarianship at the University m of Christiania . A pension fro King Carl Johan in 1839 enabled him to marry the young girl o f his choice
m ' Be kke vold (A alie ) , a child of the people , whose motherly care for he r . little sisters and brothe rs had
e to uch d him deeply . The story of his looking for a h o use to buy with part of the sum received for The
de t ro n n e Vo l. 1 g , , p . W e lha ve n decla res th a t n o n o ble nature could pla y while the ' n n v d c . A s w as W e r e la n d s surrou di gs shi er with is ords it , g to n e con que red the discords ; he played e n vironmen t i n to har mony with himself.
40
The fate of such men calls forth superfluous commis e ration from those who se e the opp osing mountains of
ff . di iculties , but d o not feel the j oy of rising above them e Th re is a p oetic sense which in the life of action , as w ell as in that of imagination , accepts a law that is its liberty :
N o other rest is the spirit allowed ’ a i u than the so r ng eagle s , piercing the clo d ” on strong e! tended pinion .
In 1840 W e rge lan d was ap pointed keeper of the
l e e pub ic records , and many respectable p ople h aved a sigh of relie f to see the demagogue in the arms o f the
a — e ! st te saf at last Having access to the state archives , he now wrote his standard work on th e H is tory of the " N orw e ian on stitu tion has g C , which recently been
h e republished . In the following years e issu s a number
t r e o f larger p oems , which by their perfec a tistic expr s
o sions have bec me recognised classics . It is doubtful t 18 0 e P whe her the year 4 , at the c lebration of the rinting ’ P e e W e r e lan d s ress jubilee , h ard a grand r cantata than g
Vo rd Lys ! ( Le t there be light ! ) It opens with. a o 2 descripti n of physical light dawning on the e arth .
l ’ ’ ' ' N orges K on st ztu tzon s H zstorze ( 1841 R ec ently republished
a n n d Pro f. . E . Sa Th k n with i tro u c ti o n by J rs . e wor is o wise ’ f r n a s a d a c . W in V l ! ! o gotte st te in the rti le on H . o . VIII ’ o f E n c clo ce a ia B rita n n ica 11th d on a n d in N e w the y p , e iti , the I n te rn ation a l E n c clo ce dia N e w Y o rk B o a r c y p ( , th ti les ' o a n d rr m r n T h t t lly u e a te the i po ta n c e o f W e rge la d s w o rks . e positi o n o f H e n rik W e rge la n d hi m sel f in the histo ry of his ’ cou n t ry is seen in Professor Sa rs g reat work on the po litical o o f N o in th hist ry rway the 19 century . “ ' 2 the insect s pliant feelers then ' th awakening concept wa ved .
42 Clothing matter and motion with life it raises the lofty
a e dim - figure of human ge nius as on p ent of rays , round ing it with a mystical song of the soul , of that light ’ t an d blood which flows hrough spirits , which the grave s maw can never drain .
’ From this maturer period of W e rge lan d s life are
s The E n lish Pilot some of his most pop ular poem like g ,
he r t 18 . T 44 latter , sp ung from impressions ga hered on 18 1 his visit to England in the summer of 3 , contains
r vivid descriptions of English scene y , testifying to the ’ 1 poet s swift and sure grasp of the typical in landscape . Norwegian nature he rendered in its esse ntials : the
e h he sombr fir , the waterfall , in w ose voice he ars the name of N orge ! the meeting o f rugged peak and
. Th e glacier with the fair , green valley graceful , d u un lating plains , south of the seas , spring and autumn h have moulded , and in hand ; summer and winter have
W e lha e n b t m . v forged out old Norway etween he , who
the - could draw on wealth of Norse folk lore , unearthed
’ the towards middle of the century , and a gradually extended knowledge of the country and the people , advanced further in the production o f the specific ’ a a t o o N or e Norwegi n colour , le ding on Bj rnson s g , ” N o e ! h — rg loo ming out of t e grey green sea .
We need n o t follow Henrik W e rge lan d about all through his tumultuous wo rking - day in order to find out w he re he e at last liv s . He wh o is the truest so n of his M o the r E arth is also bound with the strongest ties to his
1 “ I n The E n P G re e tin to E n la n d h c in M r. glish ilot is the g g , w i h , ' W a m A c h a a n w a s a d at b a n n e t illi r er s tr nsl tio , re the 3 for N a n o 12th of A 1 1 orwegi seamen in Lond n , on the pril , 9 7
43 M othe r ou t P e r C n ry. erhaps he com s nea est in his lovely child- o w has our p e m s . What N or egian not once felt sun and our summer there ! At his touch the me ad ow spreads out green and yellow , and we are running bare
in fo ot in the grass once more . And we stand the d d ! Christmas awn si e by side with the wondering child , gazing at the beautiful flowers that grow all over the
e window , and f el the breath of life which called this
- glorious winter blo om into be ing .
W e r e lan d e It seems that g , like som great force and
n natural p henome on of the skies , would mostly hurtle
h an d ' and s atter the proud lofty , raising to him that which seeks the lowest places. It may be quite natural 1 e t he that g ntle lines of his , like following , have comparatively the widest appeal .
Lowly are all thy ways and p lain ! This gives the proud and purblind pain ; i h the ir life is h dden from t em . Traceless its days do disappe ar ;
o r like J dan to the silent mere , d they towar the grave are flowing ,
nor deed or honour kn o w ing .
’ But came - to Jordan s silent shore the World ’s Redeemer not of yore ! To Nile or Euphrat never Well then ! Let Jesus betake him ’ - b to thy life river s shaded rim , ’ how well tho softly gliding , a h his im ge t ere abiding .
1 K u n da lz da s e r al din D on t . . g jg g Vol I , p 44 Each morning call him ! Without fame day daw n e th not in such a name '
t h e rein begin thy labour . ’ ’ - Twill have , tho without pomp it be ’ gre atness enough for Him who ll see of things their core and m eaning
not how they m ay b e gleaming . The idea uniting the varied activity of this showerer o f
he l . , actions was that of p The p oor and miserable ,
t r . wro e his father , were the su est t o gain his heart He P e needed , as rofessor Collin says , the h lp of someone id whom he might help . Thus d the thought of those who we re persecuted and outlawed help him to produce
- r those flowering rose tree b anches , as his poems are " ’ e ] o ae n 18 2 f e din de n call d , (The Jew) in 4 , and l (The Jewess) in The attitude of his countrymen t o the foreigners is given in a humorous conversation
n between the maple a d the fir . The former has allowed
e r ‘ an d a m r y swarm of bees to settle in its top , gets honey and sweet music in return . “ Each twig is full of b ustle gay ; a cup now eve ry leaf
reaches to lips of honest toil , ” whe re crept a hairy thief .
But the fir is not going to give up its principles :
My turpentine upon the rock flows down like melted ore ;
has thus it d one a hundred years , ” and shall a hundred mo re .
1 The a m t t o K n d 1851 si! r a f Jews were d it ed the i g om in , yea s ter ' \Ve r e la n d d a I n 1849 a m o r a w a s a d o n g s e th . me i l r ise the ’ f o fin f r a p o et s grave by grate ul Jews beyond the c n es o N o w y . 45 Almost losing patience at times in his struggle for
the cause of liberty , he could express the wish that , Truth he rself descending on earth : not with word s
” 1 he r w .n s ! The J e w g be plumed , but with swords
’ ' m W e r e lan d s contains , a ong some of g sublimest poetry ,
d m a clear , ra atically rounded , pathetic tale , which
e e may be given h re , as b ing of the best known and ap preciated in his own country .
CHRISTMAS EVE
c i e Who cannot all to m nd a storm , a temp st s o fierce he thinks that Heaven no worse can send ! C ’ A tumult as the every soul , from ain s c to the last one God d oomed , es aped from Hell , all cursed the Earth which made them give up Heaven ! he A storm who se voice can never forgot . All thought : it must be sent because of m e ;
’ at me the thun d rin g hurricane is aimed ;
my sin has become known unto the spirits . A storm whose might can teach both priest and flock to worship demons in that eleme nt whose crash the old man e ’er from childhood hears
u - e the ! a clo d quak , a last j udgment in airs “ d A storm which shook the stout heart in its stronghol ,
’ when thro the uproar his own name was c alled
him by spirits carried past on the wind ,
— whilst every tree top like a raven screamed .
l Sa n d/ze de n s a rm e e The A r o f T de n ( my ruth) , introduction to j o ,
. 301 302. Vol . II , pp , 46 But in the rocks the raven hid ; the wolf his hunger tamed ; the fox ventured not forth .
Indoors no lights were lit , the dog let in
c e tte st ! In su h a storm thou g prayers , God
In such a storm— it was the Eve of Christmas ’ when the tall night o e rst rode the cowering day ’ ’ de e Tive d thro Swe n s wildern ss , the forest , an old Jew heavily was plodding onward aw aited in the villages on this side
: the h from those beyond forest , now for C ristmas , a by maids full many longingly . His knaps ck h e held brooc es , ribbons , and what lse was wanted h for c oming days of C ristmas and o f New Year .
Their longing knew suspense , but never fear ; for never had Old Jacob disapp ointed them any Christmas yet : he came as sure as Christmas Eve itself . In such a night ’ Hush ! Wa s t again the tempest ’ howling thro branches ! Was it not a cry P ! Ah , there again Straightway O ld Jacob stop s , and with strained sense listens a second time . ’
Tis . heard n o more For now the storm increases , ’ ’ h n d rin T u g like cataract on him who s drowning .
He presses on . Hush ! The re again a sound ! r t a sound that ose above he forests roaring . Th e false owl cries just like a little child . Who in such weather would allow their child ’ t o roam ! The she - wolf wouldn t let her whelps !
Again the old man weary totters onward . o Again it cries , and he can doubt no m re
47 this whirlwind which alre ady over yonder ’ ’ - - o e r f a winding snow tow r the orest flings ,
w ord e has born a , one singl word , along ur w e At once he t ns to hence he h ard it come , W w a o the o orking his y deeper int f rest ,
deeper into the snow , into the night ,
— rearing like mountain wall against his steps , b — — d y instant passing snow gusts bleakly lighte , as if the whole white forest were on e horde n e e of flyi g , whirling , v il d ghosts and spirits , w ho howling rose each mome nt on his way ;
on airy toe they spun , horribly growing h and t en were gone be tween the rooted trees .
e Still the old man fights on against the temp st , advancing when it waxes ; when it wanes
— drawing its breath he listens on his knees . n r Anon he rises , pe et ates the darkness , ’ o as delving dwarf works thro the pitchy m uld .
No more he hears n o mo re . The old Jew
trembles ,
thinking that evil spirits him do fool , an h d mumbles forth the prayers t at he knows . ’ e t a a S e . Th n whines ag in , urely this time quite n r ’ ' His own call gainst the sto rm is carried back
. ! t ! into his mouth But there look here Ah , there , ten paces m ore ! There something dark is moving
upon the snow , as if the/ storm were j ostling
o . a stump , a little l osened at the ro ot
’ : arm arm ! ! An , an Jehovah tis a child , a child ; a child— but de ad !
e Ah ! Did the stars of heav n on this dark night ,
48
a o full m ny a time . he kn cked , ere came the answer In our Lord ’s name who ’s there on such a night ! ’ ! It is O ld Jacob . Don t you recognise me The old Jew !
J e w ! thereat cried terror - stricken ’ ’ together a man s an d a woman s voice .
hin Then keep outside ! We have n ot g t o pay with .
M o isf rtune shouldst thou bring into our house , this night when H e was born thou slewest ! I !
— . Yea , thy people and that is the sin ’ i ’ thro thou sand generatio n s to be pun shed .
Alas ! To - night the dog is let in !
Yes , ’
- db . the g, but no Jew in a Christian house
a . e He he rd no more The cruel , cru l words ’ cut thro him keener than the winter wind , and , stronger than the wind , they threw him down , ’ n d ow in the snow , bent o er the slumbering child .
Then , as toward the window he did turn his gaze— e xpecting that the w hite face might ’ appear again— it seem e d as tho in down ’ he sank , and that delicious warmth flowed thro ’ w his rin his veins , and that known beings , gently p g,
k in - li e to the summer wind grassy harp , flitte d b u a out his co ch , till one of them
: said with raised , warning finger Come ! He sleeps !
And in a bright - illumined hall beside the child they disappeared ; only . remained , w dra ing the pillows ever closer round him ,
until it seemed to him he fell asleep . w e The sno was softly burying the d ad .
50 O Jesus ! There the Jew is sitting still ! the man cried ; as he looked out in the morning . e h a him ! W h ! W ll , c se then y, it is Christmas Day
e . r e chim d in his wife Look at the g e dy Jew , how hard he draws his bun dle to his breast ! t h Impor unate as ever wit his ware , o st aring in at the window with fixed lo k , as if w e had the m one y for t o buy ’ ’ I shouldn t mind seeing what he has got tho le t ! All right , Jew , us see
h - T e pair step ped out .
z They saw the fro en gleam in the dead eyes . M n ore pale grew they tha he , they cried in fear an d tremble d with remorse . O L ord ! O Lord ! What a misfortun e this ! They raised him up ; hi the bundle followed ; lo osened next s coat . ’ w i the w There hung , th arms locked round old Je s
neck , Mar re tha g , their own child , a corpse like him . So t swif ly strikes n o lightning , darts n o adder , an as pain d horror hit the couple home . The sn ow w as not so pale as was the fathe r ; the r sto m did not wail louder than the mother . ! The o Oh , God has p unished us st rm has not , but our own cruelty has kille d our child !
— In vain , alas as on our d oor he knocked w e at the do or of Mercy too shall knock ’ in vain .
’ Wh o a en thr the forest ro d again was broken ,
51 a m an came from the farm . whe re G re tha lived ’ (the lit tle girl was quartered on a farmer s) an d whence she , as the Christmas bells were sounding , e re the storm came had wande red by herself t o see her parents dear on Christmas Eve .
o He did not come to ask ab ut the child , m but for the Jew , fro all the village girls whose hopes t o go to church were now relayed ’ - h . to New Year s Day t at is , if he were found
he h h a t e . There lay , stretc ed corpse before fire ’ as r n w His host , with gaze f oze as the Je s , e his body bent and cro oked lik the corpse , r f the re d m sat sta ing sti fly into e bers , an d ever stirring , nourishing the fire , the t o get it straightened out , and hands folded . ' ’ the m Mar re tha s k In front of g mother nelt , fo lding the stiff arms of her little on e ’ h n tig ter a d tighter round the dead man s neck . b ’ She does no more elong t o us , she sobbed , ‘ for he has bought our child by his own death . We dare not now take little G re tha fro m him ; for she must beg for us o f our Lord Jesus H is intercession ; to His father y ” 1 the p oor Je w will complain
G e n e ral m isu n de rs tan din g of his character an d motives produced some of the sharpest thorns on ’ W e rge lan d s path ; the suspicion gathering round his relation t o the somewhat arbitrary and not altogether the t Carl ohan p opular s overeign of uni ed kingdoms , J ,
1 — u le a te n e n . 12 31 j f , Vol II , pp. 3 7 .
52 18 m ay have hu rt him most . W hen early in 44 the W e r e lan d King lay dying , g wrote his passionate lyric 1 The K in is Su e rin — he g fi g , wishing ardently and
‘ meant it— that he might heal the suffe rer w ith his own
- u life blood . His strength sho ld flow into the veins of
! an d : the e hausted man , then
' e When the King op en d his eyes ,
soared an eagle to the skies , ’ Death s eluded token . At his bed ’s foot loud did ring
the clangor of a broken string , ’ ” at highe st quiv rin g broken .
” A t highes t quive rin g broke n ! The W ords were ‘ - 18 shortly to come true . In the early spring of 44
W e r e lan d o g caught a V iolent c ld in his dungeon , k deep under A ershus Castle . He w ent on for a time con ducting from his bed the b usine ss of his office (the State
w w orke d . archives) , and orked , with increasing intensity The re w e re so many things t o be finished b efore le av
all the re ation ing , and above there was revising of C , M an and the M e ssiah d e , , which he han l d severely , greatly improving the artistic exp ressi on w ithout any
h i in his w ere alter ng the spirit , thus leaving corner of this earth one o f its loftiest visions of the world through the me dium of human consciousness .
Only an absolute faith in the A ll- b e in g and in the perfectibility o f man can explain the energy displayed by this dying man , in continued work for the common
o re ation a n weal (as in his y uth , with C , ag i two printing
1 . . 434. Vol I , p
53 e s u d h u his du press co l ardly keep p with pro ction) , if a r p ossible , greater th n ever befo e in his intensely vigorous life . O f himse lf he did not think till he could
— — n say that his self not the true I was almost go e . A remn ant b urnt out in a severe fire is left ; a n d its h ” 1 wort is s oon to be decided .
Tr ue to his vow to be the knight of snake - chained
m . W e r e lan d Hu anity , even g could not but feel more o th and m re e overwhelmin g weight of his t ask . He is like the little bo y who has gone out in the early ’ t des tro hi athe r e n em ie m o . s s s orning y _f , the crowds of 2 thistle s in v fi l rolling waves of flame o er the e ds . He will gathe r before night all the white thistle down for his ’
. h e grandmother s pillow He mows and toils , eedl ss o f ’
. Th e h W the sun s rays t orns are red ith his blood , and at every step he might plant his foot on the swolle n coils o f a s n ake in the dense grt h . Onward ! Onward !
“ Already the midday sun has p assed high over t he
' o row in b e hin d woods . Slowly the shad w i s g g him ’ ‘ the a h like poltroon s cour ge , w en he feels himself unnoticed— and still the wave s are rolling in upon his h u w little clearing , w ich is s cked like a hirl into the e ocean . The wind after no on has rais d fresh thousands ,
ho ld e u . emerging like slaves , with th ir n mbers His arms sink d own ; the wind carries away mos t of his harvest and sends a flying spray o f thistle - d own int o his face .
Even so bo otless is the l abour of Love to conquer su e rin h vice s the e fi g, whic is abundant as the ( bl aching
V o l. . 438. VI , pp 2 — Tzlste lsh w - lu kke re n dde n . . 32 329. f g p in j , Vol II , pp 7
54 w o flam in thistle - of hose c untless g heads it is) , so that the field of Humanity is deluged by these flowering and ! fading millions . What is the use of our toil Were it not best to leave to Death the work of clearing ! "9
’ ’ Ah ! but will not grandm other s love fill up the boy s
“ —h d w as ever ungering bag , in which the own to be gathered ! Its riches have me lted to the size of a s n ow
‘ she ball , but will take the weeping boy to her heart and the downs under h e r head and declare that they have b reathed heavenly sleep abo ut her limbs .
' ! Fight on , therefore , with good courage God does not count more than the Will . Your cheek aglow in the struggle for the go od cause shall draw angels to your w side , who kneeling collect the drops from your bro to b e come stars in the Heaven where your spirit shall the live , whence louring banks of your days shall appear
- as d . distant vine hills , swathe in sunshine
H is c ountrymen were somehow be ing drawn towards e their dying bard , and former fri nds who had for years
a a b e kept loof or att cked him , now came to reconciled a i ag in . The interest now shown would somet mes b e t o he ecom distasteful him , as when scribbled on the label of a m edicine - bottle :
’ h c Now t at I ve scar ely a pint left of blood ,
now I am beautiful , now I am good . ’ Now that I m fainting , ’ busts they are making and portraits the y re painting .
1 vol. v1 440. ., p . Th d e har est time for him was when , in the spring ,
18 t o 45, he had spend ten days at the hospital after ” The o e leaving Grott , and b fore he could be removed
to his new cottage H je rte rurn H e art - room But
the o i- a here , through tall , bare window his w rd , the mo on brought in her silver b asket those lovely white 1 o N i hts in the H os ital. r ses , the g p
During the last m onths of his life W e rge lan d wrote a h H az e l N u ts his fresh , frank autobiogr p ical sketches , , h u m wit plenty of good humo r in the , mostly o f past
s day at home and abroad , with an occasional glimp se of present events or shadows of the coming . Well
a - k meaning friends h ve sent him p rayer boo s , and remind him ‘ h of Deat who has stood outside waiting so long .
the the e e He opens door a moment , pulls R ap r himself
an d him . in , introduces to the living
THE PERSO NAL BEAUTY O F DEATH 2
My increasing indisp osition had become known t o h t at friend of mine , who could laugh on one side of his m face , while the darkest gloo reigned on the other , and who n ow came to have the notes of hope changed into the gold o f certainty .
‘ u an d “! he Thou fo l evil Death cried hotly , Do not come here and play the Country and Literature a nasty trick !
’ Hush ! Be quiet ! I whispered . He is near .
1 — V l. . . 4 2 4 o I p 7 7 5. — . . 35 358 . Vol VI , p 7
56
S H W e r e lan d d e till , enrik g coul not but y arn for life ,
more of the sweet earth - life which he had drunk in M a n r so eagerly . One y mor ing there appea ed in 1 M or e blad hi g n e t two poe ms from s hand . One is addressed :
T'O SPRING
O Spring ! Spring ! Save m e !
No one has loved thee more dearly than I .
Thy first grass to me is worth more than emeralds . n I call thy a emones the pride of the year , ’ alth o I know that the ros e s are co ming .
O ften did they , fiery , stretch out after me .
It was like being loved by princesses , ’ fle d z 3 a had . But I Anemone , Spring d ughter my troth
Oh I r witness , Anemone , before whom have fe vently
knelt . 2 ' corftem n e d s- o Witness , Dandelion and Colt fo t , a n th t I have valued you more tha gold , because you are ’ l Spring s chi dren .
i s ! a t W tne s , Swallow that I m de ready for hee
- c e as for a long lost hild home again returned , b cause thou wert the messenger of Spring !
1 — Til F oraa re t a n d Til m in G lde n lak . . 4 6 4 . y , Vol I , p 7 7 7 2 “ ’ ' The flower tha t grows the more it s trodden was W e rge la n d s h c osen emblem .
58 Se ek the Lord of these clouds an d pray that they may no longer throw darts into my breast
- d from out of their. col , blue openings .
! w sh l Witness , Old Tree whom I have or ipped ike a god , an d whose buds I have counted every spring more n eagerly tha pe arls .
s Witne s , thou whom I have s o often embraced , _
with the reverence o f a great - grandson fo r his great
grandfather . n m a Yea , how often have I not wished to be a you g ple th of y deathless root , an d to blend my crown with thine !
- n O n e ! Be my witness , A cient Thou wilt be believed ;
' a h for thou art venerable as a p atri rc .
P ray for me , and I will pour wine on thy roots and r heal thy sca s With kisses .
N ow thou art robed in thy fairest light green ; thy le aves are rustling already
’ ! The O Spring old one is crying out for me , altho he
is hoarse .
H e s s stretches his arm toward Heaven , an d e - the anemones , thy blu eyed children , kneel and pray
u a - h that tho wilt s ve me me w o love thee so dearly .
59 TO MY WALLFLOW 'ER 1 b h Wallflower mine , ere thy rig t hues fade , I shall be that whe reof all is made ; h ere t ou hast shattered thy crown of gold , d I shall be moul .
’ the ! be d Whe n Open window I call , from my , my last lo ok is for thy golden head ;
my soul will kiss it , as over thee h it flie t free .
Twice do I kiss thy lips so sweet ,
Thine is the first , as it is meet ; e e the second , d arest , rememb r close on my fair rose !
I n bloom no more I shall it see ;
so give it my greeting , when that shall be , and say I wished on m y grave should all
its petals fall .
h ii on Yes , say I wis that p my breast the ro se thou givest my kiss shall rest ; ’ and , Wallflower , be in Death s dark porch its bridal torc h !
Henrik W e rge lan d was now starting on his last
' an d— he sun voyage , as g in the last of his sea songs , Siste R e is— n ever had he started more cheerfully on
m . any adventure . He heard his other calling him Heavenly peace breathes in these lines from the thre shold
1 Th r a re v a a o n a f n . . E dm . e e se er l tr nslati s of these be uti ul li es , e g by G o N orthe rn Stu dies a n d M M D a o n The sse , , by iles . ws ,
A m e rica n Sca n d in av ia n R e v ie w O ct . 1916. R v , In this e iew ,
n 1918 a a re th . Se e Ju e , , ppeared the lines Lowly all y ways P 44. 60 THE BEAUTIFUL FAMILY
! d ! Wonderful Ah , mo re than won erful M ! ! iracle Oh , miracle Oh h ! , t at my knees could bend in adoration M y soul has folded up its wings , kne eling as in a veiled chapel ; for my eyes have closed over the glory of the vision
that I have beheld .
‘ ! ‘ Do look I said to my wife , maybe I wrong
- rose tree . ’ One bud may have opened last night .
! he r a d One fully blown she cried , clasping h n s , ' ’ - l and six half b own aroun d .
d What a b eautiful family ! I sai . ‘ The full - blown one is like a mother amongst her ’ daughters .
Mira cle ! Heavenly miracle ! o e In the largest r se was s ated a matron , n o bigger than
- a humble bee , an d clothed like the bee in golden bodice and black skirt , n r off spin ing thin gossame r th eads from a pistil .
Hush ! she c rie d . Open with a kiss the six
- o half blown r ses , and you shall see my six eldest
daughters . ’ - W e are a h i . genii , ngels and ma ds ’ We are all in your mother s service . She has sent us t o prepare the clothn ig ’ h r W herein your s oul s all pass away from he e .
61
as w as e . I opened , I told,one rose after the oth r h m sat In eac of the there a genius , more richly clad
than the gold s carab .
All were working like their m other .
a e o m e Their f ces appear d kn wn to ,
They seemed to belong to loved ones gone before .
See what a glorio us rose - tinged tunic you shall have !
said the first . ’ ’
be m o . Don t be afraid of its g too small , said the sec nd ’ As soon as it come s int o the open air it will Widen .
’ u saidt h third I am washing yo r scarf , e ,
m - wa shing so e filmy golden threads in a dew drop .
And I ! and I ! said t he others as I came to them in r tu n , L ook ! Lo ok !
A n d one was preparing s om e attar of roses t o anoint the delicate feathe rs which they l said the soul a ready wore .
a a s w c One was busy m king a p ir of andals , hi h looked like a couple of tiny curle d leaves
from the interior of the r ose .
‘ W -ith them you can tread the glow ing fl o or o f the ’ d sun , she sai , w w h a and se ed on , it an awl no bigger than the sting of
gnat .
62
a r I will tell you this more , that you sh ll see you horse
if you long to .
You shall seem to lay your hand on his neck .
h c In a cloud valley you s all see him browsing , arnations
- fl e r h to the right and gilly ow s to t e left .
Wo uld you ride him o nce m ore ! i Good ! He aven has wide pla ns .
It will please your mother to see that you have not forgotten her favourite
whom she has stroke d so o ften .
She has told us that Brownie would come every day
he r to window , and gaze at her with his intelligent eyes until the kindly h and came forth .
r b t Su ely her heart will eat wi h j oy at your ride on him , as she knows that yours rej oices when you t e ar up along one of the mo untains of h T under ,
r or across one o f the st eams o f Lightning .
u Now I have sp oken , now let the rose fold p ,
for I need rest after my work .
: l has This only yet as soon as the ast bud opened , o ur - work cells will fall in , and we will hasten back to your mother with the h e avenly clothing she is giving to her first ’ born .
64 e A word of acknowledgme nt cam from over the seas ,
D e n rk : from m a . A letter dated
O PE N H A G E N C ,
th ul 18 . 7 J y, 45 From the first moment that I saw you— in the realm — I h e of the spirits , in your p oetical works av loved
you . I have often thought what a j oy it would be to
meet you face to face .
But now the Norwegian students tell me that you
r The B e au ti ul are ve y ill ; and from your last poem , f
F am il se e are y, I that you yourself prepared to leave
ere long .
N ow I can be silent no longer , I feel a s though I e e e c o shall n v r be at p ace if I ann t speak to you , if I
shall not be able to tell you tha t I love you .
W e r e lan d When I think o f you , g , I am proud to be a e h m an w ho a hum n being . Here at last w ave a looks
t the w ho a l dea h in face , sings like Gunn r whi e death a e is burrowing t ow rds his heart . H re we have proo f t v that immor ality does exist , and that God has gi en to man a divine s oul .
W e r e lan d ! Le t for i g me thank you th s , and for all e the b autiful hours that you have given me . Let me greet you as the greatest living poet , who in his works ’ has brought be fore my mind s e ye the picture o f a n h an d o norther granite rock , w ereon grow palms g lden
fruit of the s outh .
65 Wo uld that this greeting may reach you alive !
‘ W he n you are gone all the world will be saying how great and gl orious you were ; I want tosay it t o your self ; yo u shal l receive m y respectful hom age while you
e h . b e are yet on art And , although my voice feeble , still it is a hu man voice ; even though you should ow n no
s own ul c oul but mine , still you did a human so , whi h
is the greatest thing that a man can conquer .
M OLD SCH M I D T . . G
this le tt e r — e — Happily _ from p oet to po t in love did l da reach Henrik W e rge an d just in time . The last y in Th his life he had made a day of rest . e lines he wrote t r n o t back , and sent wi h a lock of his hair , we e a the the 1 1th de cipher ble . But in night between and 12 th of July he opened his eyes and said :
Now I had such a sweet dream ; ’ I dre amt that I lay in my mother s arms .
w - had b u c His ork cell collapsed , t his work annot die , for it lies at the heart of human progress towards the
r o u h . ealisati n of a fuller , tr er umanity
66