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47

(1915) Author: Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson Translator: Arthur Hubbell Palmer With: Arthur Hubbell Palmer
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A SIGH 47

Sunshine freely falling,
Wilt thou not my chamber find?
Here some rays would reach a mind,
Mid the dark appalling.

Morning sunshine’s gladness,
Oh, thou art my childhood bright ;
While thou playest pure and white,

I would weep in sadness.

Evening sunshine’s whiling,
Oh, thou art the wise man’s rest ;—
Farther on! Then from the west
Greet my window smiling!

Morning sunshine’s singing,
Oh, thou art the fantasy
That the sun-glad world lifts free,
Past my powers’ winging.

Evening sunshine’s quiet,
Thou art more than wisdom’s rest,
Christian faith glows in thee blest:
Calm my soul’s wild riot!

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