PS 3537 .T56 04 1897 Copy 1 n ®&e tro tbc %m\b of tbe IDIfelnas M s^I^fE?. r32 3r\ 2162 AN ODE xo The Land of the Vikings BY XHOS. O. SXINE, B. S. PouLSBO, Wash. Copyright 1897 BY A. O. RiCB. Western Printing Co. Sullivan Building, Seattle. preface. The following ode was written with no intention of publication, but at the sug-g-estion and advice of friends it was sent to the press. The rhetoric and measure may not be good, but hope the reader will be mild in criticising- one who makes his first appearance on the literary horizon. It is a trial, composed in haste. The whole ode was written during- the spare moments of the brief tim.e of two weeks. The Author. ®^e to tbe %an^ ot tbe lDtl?lnas. I. Hail to thee, Norge old, Home of the Viking bold, Who breasted stormy ocean, Dauntless of zigzag motion. II. Hail to thee, Vikings, undying fame, Homage eternal shall honor thy name, Hygeian zephyrs of the proud sea Shall fan thy glory to eternity. — 6 — III. Spite fierce breakers heaving high, And the savage, rolling sky; Thou ventured on the stormy sea Minus compass and sympathy. IV. Tossed on the billows ugly roar, In tempest fierce from shore to shore : Tolled the curfew in two spheres afar, Guided by the twinkling star. Reigned hast thou in the torrid hot, In the frigid north far apart, On the isles of great fame Hast thou planted thy own name. — 7- VI. Iceland and Greenland hast thou found With valor to thy honor crowned; And the Faroes in the salty deep, And others that in the ocean sleep. VII. Thy scepter has on Sicily swayed, Thy brawny arms with Albion played; In Russia thou power gained, In Italy thy honor reigned. VIII. In France, Rolf and company. Planted seeds of liberty, Which to this very day bloom, Filling the air with sweet perfume. — 8 - IX. Normandy to thy venture shines, With scenting wreaths and eglantines, With martial robes and high degree, Which with royal courts agree. X. lyand rich in jewels lay, Beyond the briny spray; Unknown to man white, Thou the world brought the light. XI Vinland thou called it, true, Bordering on the ocean blue; Born with thee, the western sphere, History this pictures clear. — 9 — XII. Honor, then, whom honor's due, Paint it in colors true; Sing the Brave of the northern clime, Their deeds and honors into rhyme. XIII. Hail to thee, Viking young, And the sweet throstle song. Blood of the Vikings past Warm throbbing in thy breast. XIV. Precious jewels of liberty Within thy bosom lurk; A heart full of sympathy, That lights the abyss murk. — 10 — XV. Bj0rnson, Star of the North, Shining with luster forth, Streaming light of intelligence Into the hearts of the innocents. XVI. Broad and lofty thy brow, They have need of thee now, Siren in a gloomy night, Blazing wide in dazzling light. XVII Freedom with thee goeth, Whereever thou hast been, Thoughts with thee floweth, Penetrating, keen. — 11 — XVIII. Ibsen, Halo immortal, Standing in front of the genius portal, Sweet wreathing vine, And scenting eglantine. XIX. Thou findeth books of knowledge in the earth, Jewels of wisdom at the flaming hearth. Pearls in the whistling breeze. Rubies in the surging seas. XX. Thou, too, I,ie, knowledge sings, That speedily takes flying wings, Wheeling through spheres unknown To cheer millions yet unborn. — 12 — XXI. Seeds fertile planted thou, Which are roses sweet now, Rooted in bearing soil, Fruit of thy honest toil. XXII. Wergeland is no more, Noble spirit true, Has crossed to the other shore To peal Heaven's curfew. XXIII Thy words undying stay, Perused from day to day; Words that make kings quake, Monarchs tremble and shake. — 13 — XXIV. Thy days were short, true, But gilded with golden hue; Thou poured a profusion of light Into the gospel horn of a pitchy night. XXV. Brave Nansen, Viking's son, Birch of the frozen zone; Thou planted the banner high In the fleecy, polar sky. XXVI. Science to thy valor breathes, In form of knowledge wreaths. Indebted to thee it is, For relics of the pobir haze. — 14 — XXVII. Hail to thee, peaks, hoary white, lyOoming the breeze with glaring light: Kissed by streamers of the night. Burning in fire bright. XXVIII. Majestic domes proud and grand, The most picturesque of all land. Scenes bewitching to the eye. Towering the auroral sky. XXIX. Overlooking meadow green. Silver stream and blue ravine. Rippling fjords in dazzling floods, Beaming through whispering woods. — 15 — XXX Hillocks crowned with weeping pine, White birch singing in fitting rhyme, Richly clothed in attire green, And woven snow in circle sheen. XXXI. Brooks of music winding 'long, With a sweet melodious song, Down giddy heights to bed of rest, In bubbling green bounding fast. XXXII Through vales enameled green O'er rocks of beauty seen, To swell the listless deep, That 'long rocky coasts sweep. — 16 — XXXIII. Laughing flowers of beauty rare Blinking to each other in the brisky air, With smiles of enchanting hue, Violet, crimson and deepest blue. XXXIV. Vales decked with linnsea wild and rich. Matted clusters of heaven teach; Lilies and roses of the purest white, With daisies golden lovingly unite. XXXV. Then, hail to thee, Steine, in Valders grand, Where wanton sports with sorrows blend. Place of my childhood, innocent mirth, Where in infancy played at mother's hearth. — 17 — XXXVI. Oft have I pranced o'er thy russet green, In childish sports that marked each scene; Oft have I stood by that warbling brook, That hurrily dances o'er rock and nook. XXXVII. Oft have I gazed at the Hovda proud, Encompassed by the fleeting cioud; Oft have I eyed the linnet winging b3^ Twittering a song to the morning sky. XXXVIII. Oft have I coasted thy hills steep, From crowned peaks to vale deep, Oft did I toss the missiles white Into the face of the boy bright — 18 — XXXIX Oft (lid I on ski glide Swiftly the hillside; Headlong domes to the fjord, Blushed by the breeze cold. XL. Races many did we have, Words fail to tell by half. On ski and skates alike, But never tried the giddy bike. XLI. Fresh recollection lingers in my heart Of the Salter and its rustic cot. Of the budeie and her lur, And the swain's wonted tour. — 19 — XLII. The cow bell to my ear peals clear. The sheep and the goats appear, As they wont in the time of yore, When infancy played on Synda shore. XLIII. Happiness then 'bove par placed, In frolicking gambol each other chased, O'er meadows somber green, 'Long silver stream and blue ravine. XLIV. Again, hail to thee, Norge old, Home of intelligence multifold, Home of geniuses renowned Who frtedcm bie&tte profourd. — 20 — XLV. Kear not feathered monarchs, Nor owl-winged larks, Nor Ceres of the celestial sphere, Nor others that thunder fear. XLVI. Look at Union strong, Let Republic be thy song; Kiss not the threshold of kings, Nor those that court such things. XLVII. Republic freedom true, Watchword for you, Where the curfew of liberty Rings in sweet S3^mphon3^ — 21 — XLVIII. Hear! its pealing through the air, It doth with Heaven's music share, In chorus of sweetest strains, Where freedom supreme reigns. XLIX. Keep thy banner in the breeze, On land and seas, Sail on! as in time of old. In storm and cold. L. Sail on! Northland, skaal! to thee, Skaal! to a people brave and free, Skaal! to thy valor on land and sea, Skaal! to thy love for liberty. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 018 360 358 9