time with Ewald and Wessel may be mentioned Johan Clemens Tode, who, though German by birth, removed at an early age to Denmark, where he completed his studies. He became a physician, and was one of the few of the medical profession there, who devoted himself also to general literature. Besides his medical works, one of which was a medical review, he was the author of some pretty poems, &c. &c. He was born in 1736, and died in 1806. Johan Nordahl Brun was a poet and dramatist; and Thomas Christopher Bruun was a writer of songs, some of which are set to music. A number of his verses are given in Seidelin's "Collection of National Songs and Ballads," published in Copenhagen, in 1821. They are very pretty, and one, an invocation to Memory, recalling past nappy days, is particularly pleasing and graceful. But as a specimen of the verses of this popular songster, we shall rather choose some lines to his "Fœdreland,” which may be translated as follows:
There is a name which each reveres,
Which from our earliest childish years
Is stamped on every heart;
'Tis hailed with warmth in youth's gay spring,
And not the chill of age can bring
Indifference—for our love will cling
To it till life depart.
That name so loved is—Fatherland!
What Dane its magic can withstand?
What sound to him so sweet?
For it, his blood, his life, he offers;
For it, his strength and valour proffers;
For it, would freely yield his coffers.
Or Fate’s worst evils meet.
Ye stars, that from yon skies above
Watch o’er the country that we love,
Protect it from all ill!
From every selfish feeling free.
Oh, may our patriot-hearts agree
In ever loving, serving thee—
Sweet duty to fulfil!
In Honour’s path, oh! may we tread,
Still by our country’s glory led,
Devoted to her fame!
And may onr words and deeds still show
The noble source from whence they flow;
And may our bosoms ever glow
At sound of Denmark’s name!
Dear Fatherland! In peace or strife,
To thee we dedicate our life!
Come, every loyal Dane,
Here let us join with heart and hand,
And, as befits a patriot-band.
To our loved northern Fatherland
A goblet let us drain!
It may be imagined that these are rather spirit-stirring lines in a social party; at any rate, they are not worse than the generality of songs which end in a libation. The first-named of these Brauns, or Browns, died in 1816; the writer of songs in 1834. He was also professor of the English
