KNUD IVERSON.
Come, gather round me, children!
Put your playthings all away;
I will tell you a thing that happened
In our midst the other day.
I know your hearts will tremble,
And your cheeks turn very pale,
And your eyes be wet with weeping,
At the telling of my tale.
Put your playthings all away;
I will tell you a thing that happened
In our midst the other day.
I know your hearts will tremble,
And your cheeks turn very pale,
And your eyes be wet with weeping,
At the telling of my tale.
'Tis of a young Norwegian,
A gentle boy, who came
And settled among us lately,
Knud Iverson his name.
From a far-off, frozen country,
A country by the sea,
He came like a young hero,
To teach us to be free.
A gentle boy, who came
And settled among us lately,
Knud Iverson his name.
From a far-off, frozen country,
A country by the sea,
He came like a young hero,
To teach us to be free.
One afternoon in August,
When the blue sky looked, above,
Full of pleasantness and beauty,
Full of purity and love,—
To the green and quiet pastures
He was going blithe and gay,
And came to a deep swift river,
Where idle boys were at play.
When the blue sky looked, above,
Full of pleasantness and beauty,
Full of purity and love,—
To the green and quiet pastures
He was going blithe and gay,
And came to a deep swift river,
Where idle boys were at play.
And they pointed to an orchard
Where the golden fruit hung low,
And urged him to go and rob it,
But he refused to go;
For the fear of God within him,
A fear they did not feel,
Like a king enthroned in his bosom.
Kept saying "Thou shalt not steal."
Where the golden fruit hung low,
And urged him to go and rob it,
But he refused to go;
For the fear of God within him,
A fear they did not feel,
Like a king enthroned in his bosom.
Kept saying "Thou shalt not steal."
Then they pointed to the orchard
Where the golden fruit hung down,
And they pointed to the water,
And dragged him there to drown;
But the love of God within him,
Something they did not feel,
Overcame his dread of mortal,
And he still refused to steal.
Where the golden fruit hung down,
And they pointed to the water,
And dragged him there to drown;
But the love of God within him,
Something they did not feel,
Overcame his dread of mortal,
And he still refused to steal.
They plunged him beneath the water,
And held him there, until
Drowning, he ceased to struggle,
And his heart was cold and still.
He had called for help to heaven,
Trusting the Father's love;
But he sank m the hungry river,
For no help came from above.
And held him there, until
Drowning, he ceased to struggle,
And his heart was cold and still.
He had called for help to heaven,
Trusting the Father's love;
But he sank m the hungry river,
For no help came from above.
I have read how the Roman soldier,
When the day was surely lost,
Would die with the harness on him,
But not desert his post;
I have read how the Christian martyr
The burning furnace trod,
And smiled at its fiery torture,
But would not deny his God;
When the day was surely lost,
Would die with the harness on him,
But not desert his post;
I have read how the Christian martyr
The burning furnace trod,
And smiled at its fiery torture,
But would not deny his God;
Great was the Roman soldier,
With his fearless self-control,
And greater the Christian martyr,
With his constancy of soul;
No story of field or fagot,
Where courage at sure death smiled,
Has half such power to thrill me,
As the tale of that martyr-child!
With his fearless self-control,
And greater the Christian martyr,
With his constancy of soul;
No story of field or fagot,
Where courage at sure death smiled,
Has half such power to thrill me,
As the tale of that martyr-child!