Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/201

The Schoolmaster.

To-day the valley's in high feather.
From far and wide they're flocking hither,
The fjord with sails is all agleam.

The Sexton.

Yes; they've awaken'd from their dream.
In the late Pastor's day, no breast
With bitterness and strife was cumber'd,
Each slumber'd as his neighbour slumber'd,
—I'm not quite certain which is best.

The Schoolmaster.

Life, Sexton, life!

The Sexton.

                    Yet you and I
Pass this "life" unregarding by;
How comes it?

The Schoolmaster.

              Why, before, the folk
Slumber'd, and nowise toil'd, as we did;
We fell asleep when they awoke,
Because we were no longer needed.

The Sexton.

But yet you said that life was best?

The Schoolmaster.

By Dean and deacon that's profess'd.
And I too say so, like the rest,—
Provided, mind, the "life" in view
Is that of the great Residue.
But we two serve another law
Than that which holds the mass in awe;