The Bijou;
or Annual of Literature and the Arts
compiled by William Fraser
London: William Pickering,
1828
pp. pp. 173-175
| LAND of our fathers thou art fair, | 1 |
| To us thy sea- zoned coast is dear; | 2 |
| And dear thy rocks up- piled on high, | 3 |
| Which storms and years alike defy! — | 4 |
| Remains of a primeval land, | 5 |
| That midst the raging tempests stand | 6 |
| As mailed giants on whose brow | 7 |
| Wide gleams the helmet's silver glow. | 8 |
| When Thor first Norway's shores beheld, | 9 |
| His throne he stationed there, and dwelled | 10 |
| Amidst the spirits who delight | 11 |
| With cloud and storm to wage the fight. | 12 |
| As through the welkin rolled his car, | 13 |
| He heard them chaunt his praise afar; | 14 |
| With boding voice of awe they hailed | 15 |
| The power that o'er thy foes prevailed. | 16 |
[Page 174]
| 'Twas here that roamed the North's brave child, | 17 |
| Undaunted through the troublous wild; | 18 |
| Not death could e'er his soul appal, | 19 |
| But beckoned him to Odin's hall, | 20 |
| Like a fair maid with Freia's face, | 21 |
| Full rushing to his fond embrace, | 22 |
| Whilst in his life's last throb of pain | 23 |
| His lips would breathe the victor strain. | 24 |
| Dear to our hearts the legend lore | 25 |
| Of which is thine so rich a store: | 26 |
| When howls the storm the plain along, | 27 |
| It seems some ancient warrior's song; | 28 |
| When foams the dashing water fall, | 29 |
| We hear a voice to battle call — | 30 |
| The clang of arms — the glorious fray — | 31 |
| The Skald's bold, courage stirring lay. | 32 |
| Still in thy manly sons we trace | 33 |
| Norway's former hero- race; | 34 |
| The spirit flashes from their eye, | 35 |
| While toil they brave, and death defy; | 36 |
| And in thy maiden's eye of blue | 37 |
| Beneath young Siofna's virgin hue, | 38 |
| While Ydun's ever- youthful spring | 39 |
| Doth o'er their cheek its rose- tints fling. | 40 |
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| Hail! thou our glorious father- land! | 41 |
| With pride we view thy lofty strand — | 42 |
| Its summer vales and winter woods, | 43 |
| Its crystal lakes, and torrent- floods. | 44 |
| Unshaken by the storms that rage | 45 |
| Around, it stands from age to age; | 46 |
| And rears its giant crest sublime, | 47 |
| Unchanging to the end of time! | 48 |