Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - Upsala.
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high road" it leads us close past Upsala’s old
hills – Odin’s, Thor’s and Freia’s graves, as
they are called.
There once stood ancient Upsala, here now
are but a few peasants’ farms. The low
church, built of granite blocks, dates from a
very remote age; it stands on the remains of
the heathen temple. Each of the hills is a
little mountain, yet each was raised by human
hands. Letters an ell long, and whole names,
are cut deep in the thin greensward, which the
new sprouting grass gradually fills up. The
old housewife, from the peasant’s cot close by
the hill, brings the silver-bound horn, a gift of
Charles John XIV., filled with mead. The
wanderer empties the horn to the memory of
the olden time, for Sweden, and for the heart’s
constant thoughts – young love!
Yes, thy toast is drunk here, and many a
beauteous rose has been remembered here with
a heartfelt hurra! and years after, when the
same wanderer again stood here, she, the
blooming rose, had been laid in the earth; the
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