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155

(1915) Author: Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson Translator: Arthur Hubbell Palmer With: Arthur Hubbell Palmer
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FOR THE WOUNDED 155

His “‘grammar” was not printed! But the life that it had,

In ink’s prolonging power did not need to be clad.

It lived in his soul, so mighty, so warm,

That a thousand books’ life seems but poor empty form.

It lives in a host of independent men,

To whose thought he gave life and who give it again

In the school, at the bar, in the church, and Storting’s
hall,

In poetry and art,—whose deeds and lifework all

Have proved to be the freer and the broader in their
might,

Because Heltberg had given their youth higher flight.

FOR THE WOUNDED
(1871)

A sri procession goes

Amid the battle’s booming,

Its arm the red cross shows;

It prays in many forms of speech,
And, bending o’er the fallen,
Brings peace and home to each.

Not only is it found

Where bleed the wounds of battle,
But all the world around.

It is the love the whole world feels
In noble hearts and tender,

While gentle pity kneels; —

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