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There thou art fast detained And Death hath the key. Loathsome is that earth-house, And grim within to dwell. There thou shalt dwell,
And worms shall divide thee.
Thus thou art laid, And leavest thy friends ; Thou hast no friend, Who will come to thee,
Who will ever see
How that house pleaseth thee;
Who will ever open
The door for thee
And descend after thee,
A NATIONAL SONG OF DENMARK.
FROM THE DANISH OF JOHANNES EVALD.
King Christian stood by the lofty mast
In mist and smoke; His sword was hammering so fast, Through Gothic helm and brain it passed ; Then sank each hostile hulk and mast,
In mist and smoke. “Fly!” shouted they, “ fly, he who can ! Who braves of Denmark's Christian
Nils Juel gave heed to the tempest's roar,
Now is the hour ! He hoisted his blood-red flag once more, And smote upon the foe full sore, And shouted loud, through the tempest's roar,
6 Now is the hour!” “ Fly!” shouted they, “for shelter fly! Of Denmark's Juel who can defy
The power ?”
North Sea ! a glimpse of Wessel rent
Thy murky sky!
Thy murky sky!
Path of the Dane to fame and might!
My grave !*
* Nils Juel was a celebrated Danish Admiral, and Peder Wessel, a Vice-Admiral, who for his great prowess received the popular title of Tordenskiold, or Thunder-shield. In childhood he was a tailor's apprentice, and rose to his high rank before the age of twenty-eight, when he was killed in
THE HAPPIEST LAND.
FRAGMENT OF A MODERN BALLAD.
FROM THE GERMAN.
There sat one day in quiet,
By an alehouse on the Rhine, Four hale and hearty fellows,
And drank the precious wine.
The landlord's daughter filled their cups,
Around the rustic board ;
And spake not one rude word.