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And many a heart there silently recalled the
old song about the cloister robbery and looked
at Oluf Tyste:
"Krist gif en sadan Angel
Kom, tog båd mig och dig!"[1]
The sun now shines through the open
cloister-gate. Let truth shine into our hearts;
let us likewise acknowledge the cloister’s share
of God’s influence. Every cell was not quite a
prison, where the imprisoned bird flew in despair
against the window-pane; here sometimes was
sunshine from God in the heart and mind, from
hence also went out comfort and blessings.
If the dead could rise from their graves they
would bear witness thereof: if we saw them in
the moonlight lift the tombstone and step forth
towards the cloister, they would say: "Blessed
be these walls!" if we saw them in the sunlight
hovering in the rainbow’s gleam, they would
say: "Blessed be these walls!"
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