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124
POEMS AND SONGS
But quickly we must away,
If all the land we would survey, —
The mines of our metal treasures,
The hills of our hunters’ pleasures,
The foam-white river’s rush and noise,
The timber-driver’s foot-sure poise.
Returning, we linger here,
These valleys broad to us are dear,
Whose men in their faithful living
To Norway are honor giving;
Their fathers, strong in brain and brawn,
Lent luster to our morning-dawn.
We wander and sing with glee
Of glorious Norway fair to see.
Our present to labor binds us,
Each how of the past reminds us,
Our future shall be sure and bright,
As God we trust and do the right.
I PASSED BY THE HOUSE
I passep by the house one summer day,
Morning sunshine upon it lay;
Toward the windows that blood-red burned
Flaming my soul was turned, was turned.
There spring had found me
And captive bound me
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