Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Sidor ...
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
Below is the raw OCR text
from the above scanned image.
Do you see an error? Proofread the page now!
Här nedan syns maskintolkade texten från faksimilbilden ovan.
Ser du något fel? Korrekturläs sidan nu!
This page has been proofread at least once.
(diff)
(history)
Denna sida har korrekturlästs minst en gång.
(skillnad)
(historik)
Her head she lifted up then, and proudly
Rose she erect;
The northern lights played o’er the starry arch,
Icily cold
Was the air of the night; seeking the distance
Pale was her gaze.—
“Speak, thou proud beauty, yon night on the ice-pack
Wert thou not silent;
Those tear-smitten eyes
With meaning were rich.”
Angrily raised she her head; her bosom
Heaved like the sea;
Higher and higher the billows of passion
Surged, as she whispered:
“No man as thee I loved aforetime;
Thou truly hast seen.
None henceforth shall I hate more deeply,
More fiercely than thee.”—
And the source of her tears
On the instant was dried.
Smiled then Arnljot, in words replying
Low-spoken like hers:
“Mournest thou sore for thy fallen father,
Mourn I as well.
Each of us now has won what he willed,
Won his revenge;
Our union this night shall be as atonement
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
