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434 POEMS.
* THE SOUND IN TIME OF PEACE.
Horraw! How briskly the south winds blow,
Crisping the Sound as it sleeps in the sun.
Hurrah! What sails sweep to and fro,
Swelling and scudding and hurrying on ;
Of every nation,
Color and fashion, .
Foe or confederate,
From cities small and great,
On the blue waters that dance round each prow,
Glowing in sunlight they come and they go.
And Denmark’s green shores, how they gleam through the
mist,
With gold waving harvests round “ Marienlyst ;”
And “ Kronoborg’s” castle, that fortress of pride,
Where “ Holger the Dane” is still said to reside ;
There rise Odin’s heights, there the royal town
With its palaces, churches, and towers looks down
O’er the placid wave. But from Svea’s strand
Frowns the dark cliff of Kullen, her pride and her boast ;
A greeting it sends to the opposite coast —
A greeting of peace from the “ Jernbirar” land 3
And Scania’s parks, and the island of “ Hven,”
Where rose Brahe’s tower on the starlit plain ;
Those shores, once ringing with warlike cries,
Now bound by a thousand peaceful ties,
By the glitteriug Sound that their borders laves —
They look on its waves.
The sun shines bright over sea and land,
Sparkles the sail-laden Sound in its ray ;
Dolphins gambol and hornbeaks play,
Fishermen lay out their nets from the strand.
1 The Jronbearing land, one of the ancient names of Sweden, on ac
count of the iron which is one of its chief productions.
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