Sweden's Laureate: Selected Poems of Verner von Heidenstam/A Day

by Carl Gustaf Verner von Heidenstam

A DAY.

With twinkling stars the sky is crowned,
Although the peasant with his light
Is stumbling on his farm-yard round.
Now to the woods with deep, soft sound
Goes fluttering the Bird of Night.
The cottage clock is striking five,
The streak of morn is gleaming,
The factory wheels are all alive,
The fire and sparks are streaming.

To north, where pine- and fir-trees float,
The earliest rays have hurried
To tinge the heath. A cow-horn's note
Across the smooth lake is carried.
The beams now touch a pale white peak,
Or on some torrent settle
That frozen hangs on ledges bleak.
Above a Lapp's tent whirls the reek,
And flames leap round his kettle.
Out on the snow, with branching horns
His deer stand in a ring there.
No house, no tower yon land adorns.
Nor is there bell to sing there.
Night seethes around, an ocean vast.
For all things come to night at last.

Thou sun, whose might bestoweth
On each least plant a quickening dower,
Grant us thy bright creative power
As long as day still gloweth!
Keen is our heart, but time is short.
Oh, hark to our imploring,—
Thou whom our fathers once would court,—
On us thy radiance pouring.
Go forth, go forth, thou new-born day,
With morning-song and hammer-play.
May dusk-fear come not o'er us!
Kindle brave strife, our hearth-stone guard;
Send, lightning-like, a spirit sword
To flash the road before us!
Shine far across our folk and land,
Make rich our soul, make firm our hand,
So that with gladness we may bear
Such years as age shall bring,
And still like sowers onward fare
Into the world's new Spring!