ACT THIRD.

Svanhild.

Falk, one word with you!

Falk[pointing politely to the house].

That way, Miss Halm;—that way, with all the forceOf aunts and inmates, Mrs. Halm withdrew.

That way, Miss Halm;—that way, with all the force

Of aunts and inmates, Mrs. Halm withdrew.

Svanhild[nearer to him].

Let them withdraw; their ways and mine divide;I will not swell the number of their band.

Let them withdraw; their ways and mine divide;

I will not swell the number of their band.

Falk.

You’ll stay?

Svanhild.

If you make war on lies, I standA trusty armour-bearer by your side.

If you make war on lies, I stand

A trusty armour-bearer by your side.

Falk.

You, Svanhild, you who—

Svanhild.

Were you yourself, Falk, yesterday the same?You bade me be a sallow, for your play.

Were you yourself, Falk, yesterday the same?

You bade me be a sallow, for your play.

Falk.

And a sweet sallow sang me into shame.No, you are right: I was a child to ask;But you have fired me to a nobler task.Eight in the midst of men the Church is foundedWhere Truth’s appealing clarion must be soundedWe are not called, like demigods, to gaze onThe battle from the far-off mountain’s crest,But in our hearts to bear our fiery blazon,An Olaf’s cross upon a mailed breast,—To look afar across the fields of flight,Tho’ pent within the mazes of its might,—Beyond the mirk descry one glimmer stillOf glory—that’s the Call we must fulfil.

And a sweet sallow sang me into shame.

No, you are right: I was a child to ask;

But you have fired me to a nobler task.

Eight in the midst of men the Church is founded

Where Truth’s appealing clarion must be sounded

We are not called, like demigods, to gaze on

The battle from the far-off mountain’s crest,

But in our hearts to bear our fiery blazon,

An Olaf’s cross upon a mailed breast,—

To look afar across the fields of flight,

Tho’ pent within the mazes of its might,—

Beyond the mirk descry one glimmer still

Of glory—that’s the Call we must fulfil.

Svanhild.

And you’ll fulfil it when you break from men,Stand free, alone,—

And you’ll fulfil it when you break from men,

Stand free, alone,—

Falk.

Did I frequent themthen?And there lies duty. No, that time’s gone by,—My solitary compact with the sky.My four-wall-chamber poetry is done;My verse shall live in forest and in field,I’ll fight under the splendour of the sun;—I or the Lie—one of us two must yield!

Did I frequent themthen?

And there lies duty. No, that time’s gone by,—

My solitary compact with the sky.

My four-wall-chamber poetry is done;

My verse shall live in forest and in field,

I’ll fight under the splendour of the sun;—

I or the Lie—one of us two must yield!

Svanhild.

Then forth with God from Verse to Derringdoe!I did you wrong: you have a feeling heart;Forgive me,—and as good friends let us part—

Then forth with God from Verse to Derringdoe!

I did you wrong: you have a feeling heart;

Forgive me,—and as good friends let us part—

Falk.

Nay, in my future there is room for two!We part not. Svanhild, if you dare decide,We’ll battle on together side by side.

Nay, in my future there is room for two!

We part not. Svanhild, if you dare decide,

We’ll battle on together side by side.

Svanhild.

Webattle?

Falk.

See, I have no friend, no mate,By all abandoned, I make war on all:At me they aim the piercing shafts of hate;Say, do you dare with me to stand or fall?Henceforth along the beaten walks I’ll moveHeedful of each constraining etiquette;Spread, like the rest of men, my board, and setThe ring upon the finger of my love![Takes a ring from his finger and holds it up.

See, I have no friend, no mate,

By all abandoned, I make war on all:

At me they aim the piercing shafts of hate;

Say, do you dare with me to stand or fall?

Henceforth along the beaten walks I’ll move

Heedful of each constraining etiquette;

Spread, like the rest of men, my board, and set

The ring upon the finger of my love!

[Takes a ring from his finger and holds it up.

Svanhild[in breathless suspense].

You meanthat?

Falk.

Yes, by us the world shall see,Love has an everlasting energy,That suffers not its splendour to take hurtFrom the day’s dust, the common highway’s dirt.Last night I showed you the ideal aflame,Beaconing from a dizzy mountain’s brow.You shuddered, for you were a woman,—nowI show you woman’s veritable aim;—A soul like yours, what it has vowed, will keep.You see the abyss before you,—Svanhild, leap!

Yes, by us the world shall see,

Love has an everlasting energy,

That suffers not its splendour to take hurt

From the day’s dust, the common highway’s dirt.

Last night I showed you the ideal aflame,

Beaconing from a dizzy mountain’s brow.

You shuddered, for you were a woman,—now

I show you woman’s veritable aim;—

A soul like yours, what it has vowed, will keep.

You see the abyss before you,—Svanhild, leap!

Svanhild[almost inaudibly].

If we should fail—!

Falk[exulting].

No, in your eyes I seeA gleam that surely prophesies our winning!

No, in your eyes I see

A gleam that surely prophesies our winning!

Svanhild.

Then take me as I am, take all of me!Now buds the young leaf; now my spring’s beginning!

Then take me as I am, take all of me!

Now buds the young leaf; now my spring’s beginning!

[She flings herself boldly into his arms as the curtain falls.

ACT THIRD.

Evening. Bright moonlight. Coloured lanterns are hung about the trees. In the background are covered tables with bottles, glasses, biscuits, etc. From the house, which is lighted up from top to bottom, subdued music and singing are heard during the following scene.Svanhildstands on the verandah.Falkcomes from the right with some books and a portfolio under his arm. ThePorterfollows with a portmanteau and a knapsack.

Falk.

That’s all, then?

Porter.

Yes, sir, all is in the pack,But just a satchel, and the paletot.

Yes, sir, all is in the pack,

But just a satchel, and the paletot.

Falk.

Good; when I go, I’ll take them on my back.Now off. See, this is the portfolio.

Good; when I go, I’ll take them on my back.

Now off. See, this is the portfolio.

Porter.

It’s locked, I see.

Falk.

Locked, Peter.

Porter.

Good, sir.

Falk.

Pray,Make haste and burn it.

Pray,

Make haste and burn it.

Porter.

Burn it?

Falk.

Yes, to ash—[Smiling.With every draft upon poetic cash;As for the books, you’re welcome to them.

Yes, to ash—

[Smiling.

With every draft upon poetic cash;

As for the books, you’re welcome to them.

Porter.

Nay,Such payment is above a poor man’s earning.But, sir, I’m thinking, if you can bestowYour books, you must have done with all your learning?

Nay,

Such payment is above a poor man’s earning.

But, sir, I’m thinking, if you can bestow

Your books, you must have done with all your learning?

Falk.

Whatever can be learnt from books I know,And rather more.

Whatever can be learnt from books I know,

And rather more.

Porter.

More? Nay, that’s hard, I doubt!

Falk.

Well, now be off; the carriers wait without.Just help them load the barrow ere you go.[ThePortergoes out to the left.

Well, now be off; the carriers wait without.

Just help them load the barrow ere you go.

[ThePortergoes out to the left.

Falk[approachingSvanhildwho comes to meet him].

One moment’s ours, my Svanhild, in the lightOf God and of the lustrous summer night.How the stars glitter thro’ the leafage, see,Like bright fruit hanging on the great world-tree.Now slavery’s last manacle I slip,Now for the last time feel the wealing whip;Like Israel at the Passover I stand,Loins girded for the desert, staff in hand.Dull generation, from whose sight is hidThe Promised Land beyond that desert flight,Thrall tricked with knighthood, never the more knight,Tomb thyself kinglike in the Pyramid,—I cross the barren desert to be free.My ship strides on despite an ebbing sea;But there the Legion Lie shall find its doom,And glut one deep, dark, hollow-vaulted tomb.[A short pause; he looks at her and takes her hand.You are so still!

One moment’s ours, my Svanhild, in the light

Of God and of the lustrous summer night.

How the stars glitter thro’ the leafage, see,

Like bright fruit hanging on the great world-tree.

Now slavery’s last manacle I slip,

Now for the last time feel the wealing whip;

Like Israel at the Passover I stand,

Loins girded for the desert, staff in hand.

Dull generation, from whose sight is hid

The Promised Land beyond that desert flight,

Thrall tricked with knighthood, never the more knight,

Tomb thyself kinglike in the Pyramid,—

I cross the barren desert to be free.

My ship strides on despite an ebbing sea;

But there the Legion Lie shall find its doom,

And glut one deep, dark, hollow-vaulted tomb.

[A short pause; he looks at her and takes her hand.

You are so still!

Svanhild.

So happy! Suffer me,O suffer me in silence still to dream.Speak you for me; my budding thoughts, grown strong,One after one will burgeon into song,Like lilies in the bosom of the stream.

So happy! Suffer me,

O suffer me in silence still to dream.

Speak you for me; my budding thoughts, grown strong,

One after one will burgeon into song,

Like lilies in the bosom of the stream.

Falk.

O say it once again, in truth’s pure toneBeyond the fear of doubt, that thou art mine!O say it, Svanhild, say—

O say it once again, in truth’s pure tone

Beyond the fear of doubt, that thou art mine!

O say it, Svanhild, say—

Svanhild[throwing herself on his neck].

Yes, I am thine!

Falk.

Thou singing-bird God sent me for my own!

Svanhild.

Homeless within my mother’s house I dwelt,Lonely in all I thought, in all I felt,A guest unbidden at the feast of mirth,—Accounted nothing—less than nothing—worth.Then you appeared! For the first time I heardMy own thought uttered in another’s word;To my lame visions you gave wings and feet—You young unmasker of the Obsolete!Half with your caustic keenness you alarmed me,Half with your radiant eloquence you charmed me,As sea-girt forests summon with their spellThe sea their flinty beaches still repel.Now I have read the bottom of your soul,Now you have won me, undivided, whole;Dear forest, where my tossing billows beat,My tide’s at flood and never will retreat!

Homeless within my mother’s house I dwelt,

Lonely in all I thought, in all I felt,

A guest unbidden at the feast of mirth,—

Accounted nothing—less than nothing—worth.

Then you appeared! For the first time I heard

My own thought uttered in another’s word;

To my lame visions you gave wings and feet—

You young unmasker of the Obsolete!

Half with your caustic keenness you alarmed me,

Half with your radiant eloquence you charmed me,

As sea-girt forests summon with their spell

The sea their flinty beaches still repel.

Now I have read the bottom of your soul,

Now you have won me, undivided, whole;

Dear forest, where my tossing billows beat,

My tide’s at flood and never will retreat!

Falk.

And I thank God that in the bath of PainHe purged my love. What strong compulsion drewMe on I knew not, till I saw in youThe treasure I had blindly sought in vain.I praise Him, who our love has lifted thusTo noble rank by sorrow,—licensed usTo a triumphal progress, bade us sweepThro’ fen and forest to our castle-keep,A noble pair, astride on Pegasus!

And I thank God that in the bath of Pain

He purged my love. What strong compulsion drew

Me on I knew not, till I saw in you

The treasure I had blindly sought in vain.

I praise Him, who our love has lifted thus

To noble rank by sorrow,—licensed us

To a triumphal progress, bade us sweep

Thro’ fen and forest to our castle-keep,

A noble pair, astride on Pegasus!

Svanhild[pointing to the house].

The whole house, see, is making feast to-night.There, in their honour, every room’s alight,There cheerful talk and joyous song ring out;On the highroad no passer-by will doubtThat men are happy where they are so gay.[With compassion.Poor sister!—happy in the great world’s way!

The whole house, see, is making feast to-night.

There, in their honour, every room’s alight,

There cheerful talk and joyous song ring out;

On the highroad no passer-by will doubt

That men are happy where they are so gay.

[With compassion.

Poor sister!—happy in the great world’s way!

Falk.

“Poor” sister, say you?

Svanhild.

Has she not dividedWith kith and kin the treasure of her soul,Her capital to fifty hands confided,So that not one is debtor for the whole?From no one has sheallthings to receive,For no one has she utterly to live.O beside my wealth hers is little worth;I have but one possession upon earth.My heart was lordless when with trumpet blareAnd multitudinous song you came, its king,The banners of my thought your ensign bear,You fill my soul with glory, like the spring.Yes, I must needs thank God, when it is past,That I was lonely till I found out thee,—That I lay dead until the trumpet blastWaken’d me from the world’s frivolity.

Has she not divided

With kith and kin the treasure of her soul,

Her capital to fifty hands confided,

So that not one is debtor for the whole?

From no one has sheallthings to receive,

For no one has she utterly to live.

O beside my wealth hers is little worth;

I have but one possession upon earth.

My heart was lordless when with trumpet blare

And multitudinous song you came, its king,

The banners of my thought your ensign bear,

You fill my soul with glory, like the spring.

Yes, I must needs thank God, when it is past,

That I was lonely till I found out thee,—

That I lay dead until the trumpet blast

Waken’d me from the world’s frivolity.

Falk.

Yes we, who have no friends on earth, we twainOwn the true wealth, the golden fortune,—weWho stand without, beside the starlit sea,And watch the indoor revel thro’ the pane.Let the lamp glitter and the song resound,Let the dance madly eddy round and round;—Look up, my Svanhild, into yon deep blue,—There glitter little lamps in thousands, too—

Yes we, who have no friends on earth, we twain

Own the true wealth, the golden fortune,—we

Who stand without, beside the starlit sea,

And watch the indoor revel thro’ the pane.

Let the lamp glitter and the song resound,

Let the dance madly eddy round and round;—

Look up, my Svanhild, into yon deep blue,—

There glitter little lamps in thousands, too—

Svanhild.

And hark, beloved, thro’ the limes there floatsThis balmy eve a chorus of sweet notes—

And hark, beloved, thro’ the limes there floats

This balmy eve a chorus of sweet notes—

Falk.

It is for us that fretted vault’s aglow—

Svanhild.

It is for us the vale is loud below!

Falk.

I feel myself like God’s lost prodigal;I left Him for the world’s delusive charms.With mild reproof He wooed me to His arms;And when I come, He lights the vaulted hall,Prepares a banquet for the son restored,And makes His noblest creature my reward.From this time forth I’ll never leave that Light,—But stand its armed defender in the fight;Nothing shall part us, and our life shall proveA song of glory to triumphant love!

I feel myself like God’s lost prodigal;

I left Him for the world’s delusive charms.

With mild reproof He wooed me to His arms;

And when I come, He lights the vaulted hall,

Prepares a banquet for the son restored,

And makes His noblest creature my reward.

From this time forth I’ll never leave that Light,—

But stand its armed defender in the fight;

Nothing shall part us, and our life shall prove

A song of glory to triumphant love!

Svanhild.

And see how easy triumph is for two,When he’s a man—

And see how easy triumph is for two,

When he’s a man—

Falk.

She, woman thro’ and thro’;—It is impossible for such to fall!

She, woman thro’ and thro’;—

It is impossible for such to fall!

Svanhild.

Then up, and to the war with want and sorrow;This very hour I will declare it all![Pointing toFalk’sring on her finger.

Then up, and to the war with want and sorrow;

This very hour I will declare it all!

[Pointing toFalk’sring on her finger.

Falk[hastily].

No, Svanhild, not to-night, wait till to-morrow!To-night we gather our young love’s red rose;’Twere sacrilege to smirch it with the proseOf common day.[The door into the garden-room opens.Your mother’s coming! Hide!No eye this night shall see thee as my bride!

No, Svanhild, not to-night, wait till to-morrow!

To-night we gather our young love’s red rose;

’Twere sacrilege to smirch it with the prose

Of common day.

[The door into the garden-room opens.

Your mother’s coming! Hide!

No eye this night shall see thee as my bride!

[They go out among the trees by the summer-house.Mrs. HalmandGuldstadcome out on the balcony.

Mrs. Halm.

He’s really going?

Guldstad.

Seems so, I admit.

Stiver[coming].

He’s going, madam!

Mrs. Halm.

We’re aware of it!

Stiver.

A most unfortunate punctilio.He’ll keep his word; his stubbornness I know.In the Gazette he’ll put us all by name;My love will figure under leaded headings,With jilts, and twins, and countermanded weddings.Listen; I tell you, if it weren’t for shame,I would propose an armistice, a truce—

A most unfortunate punctilio.

He’ll keep his word; his stubbornness I know.

In the Gazette he’ll put us all by name;

My love will figure under leaded headings,

With jilts, and twins, and countermanded weddings.

Listen; I tell you, if it weren’t for shame,

I would propose an armistice, a truce—

Mrs. Halm.

You think he would be willing?

Stiver.

I deduceThe fact from certain signs, which indicateThat his tall talk about his Amor’s NewsWas uttered in a far from sober state.One proof especially, if not transcendent,Yet tells most heavily against defendant:It has been clearly proved that after dinnerTo his and Lind’s joint chamber he withdrew,And there displayed such singular demeanourAs leaves no question—

I deduce

The fact from certain signs, which indicate

That his tall talk about his Amor’s News

Was uttered in a far from sober state.

One proof especially, if not transcendent,

Yet tells most heavily against defendant:

It has been clearly proved that after dinner

To his and Lind’s joint chamber he withdrew,

And there displayed such singular demeanour

As leaves no question—

Guldstad.

[Sees a glimpse ofFalkandSvanhild,who separate,Falkgoing to the background;Svanhildremains standing hidden by the summer-house.

Hold, we have the clue!Madam, one word!—Falk does not mean to go,Or if he does, he means it as a friend.

Hold, we have the clue!

Madam, one word!—Falk does not mean to go,

Or if he does, he means it as a friend.

Stiver.

How, you believe then—?

Mrs. Halm.

What do you intend?

Guldstad.

With the least possible delay I’ll showThat matters move precisely as you would.Merely a word in private—

With the least possible delay I’ll show

That matters move precisely as you would.

Merely a word in private—

Mrs. Halm.

Very good.

[They go together into the garden and are seen from time to time in lively conversation.

Stiver.

[Descending into the garden discoversFalk,who is standing by the water and gazing over it.

These poets are mere men of vengeance, weState servants understand diplomacy.I need to labour for myself—[SeeingStrawman,who enters from the garden-room.Well met!

These poets are mere men of vengeance, we

State servants understand diplomacy.

I need to labour for myself—

[SeeingStrawman,who enters from the garden-room.

Well met!

Strawman[on the verandah].

He’s really leaving![Going down toStiver.Ah, my dear sir, letMe beg you just a moment to go inAnd hold my wife—

He’s really leaving!

[Going down toStiver.

Ah, my dear sir, let

Me beg you just a moment to go in

And hold my wife—

Stiver.

I—hold her, sir?

Strawman.

I meanIn talk. The little ones and we are soUnused to be divided, there is noEscaping—[His wife and children appear in the door.Ha! already on my trail.

I mean

In talk. The little ones and we are so

Unused to be divided, there is no

Escaping—

[His wife and children appear in the door.

Ha! already on my trail.

Mrs. Strawman.

Where are you, Strawman?

Strawman[aside toStiver].

Do invent some tale,Something amusing—something to beguile!

Do invent some tale,

Something amusing—something to beguile!

Stiver[going on to the verandah].

Pray, madam, have you read the official charge?A masterpiece of literary style.[Takes a book from his pocket.Which I shall now proceed to cite at large.

Pray, madam, have you read the official charge?

A masterpiece of literary style.

[Takes a book from his pocket.

Which I shall now proceed to cite at large.

[Ushers her politely into the room, and follows himself.Falkcomes forward; he andStrawmanmeet; they regard one another a moment in silence.

Strawman.

Well?

Falk.

Well?

Strawman.

Falk!

Falk.

Pastor!

Strawman.

Are you lessIntractable than when we parted?

Are you less

Intractable than when we parted?

Falk.

Nay,I go my own inexorable way—

Nay,

I go my own inexorable way—

Strawman.

Even tho’ you crush another’s happiness?

Falk.

I plant the flower of knowledge in its place.[Smiling.If, by the way, you have not ceased to thinkOf the Gazette—

I plant the flower of knowledge in its place.

[Smiling.

If, by the way, you have not ceased to think

Of the Gazette—

Strawman.

Ah, that was all a joke?

Falk.

Yes, pluck up courage, that will turn to smoke;I break the ice in action, not in ink.

Yes, pluck up courage, that will turn to smoke;

I break the ice in action, not in ink.

Strawman.

But even though you spare me, sure enoughThere’s one who won’t so lightly let me off;He has the advantage, and he won’t forego it,That lawyer’s clerk—and ’tis to you I owe it;You raked the ashes of our faded flames,And you may take your oath he won’t be stillIf once I mutter but a syllableAgainst the brazen bluster of his claims.These civil-service gentlemen, they say,Are very potent in the press to-day.A trumpery paragraph can lay me low,Once printed in that Samson-like GazetteThat with the jaw of asses fells its foe,And runs away with tackle and with net,Especially towards the quarter day—

But even though you spare me, sure enough

There’s one who won’t so lightly let me off;

He has the advantage, and he won’t forego it,

That lawyer’s clerk—and ’tis to you I owe it;

You raked the ashes of our faded flames,

And you may take your oath he won’t be still

If once I mutter but a syllable

Against the brazen bluster of his claims.

These civil-service gentlemen, they say,

Are very potent in the press to-day.

A trumpery paragraph can lay me low,

Once printed in that Samson-like Gazette

That with the jaw of asses fells its foe,

And runs away with tackle and with net,

Especially towards the quarter day—

Falk[acquiescing].

Ah, were there scandal in the case, indeed—

Strawman[despondently].

No matter. Read its columns with good heed,You’ll see me offered up to Vengeance.

No matter. Read its columns with good heed,

You’ll see me offered up to Vengeance.

Falk[whimsically].

Nay,To retribution—well-earned punishment.Thro’ all our life there runs a Nemesis,Which may delay, but never will relent,And grants to none exception or release.Who wrongs the Ideal? Straight there rushes inThe Press, its guardian with the Argus eye,And the offender suffers for his sin.

Nay,

To retribution—well-earned punishment.

Thro’ all our life there runs a Nemesis,

Which may delay, but never will relent,

And grants to none exception or release.

Who wrongs the Ideal? Straight there rushes in

The Press, its guardian with the Argus eye,

And the offender suffers for his sin.

Strawman.

But in the name of heaven, what pledge have IGiven this “Ideal” that’s ever on your tongue?I’m married, have a family, twelve youngAnd helpless innocents to clothe and keep;I have my daily calls on every side,Churches remote and glebe and pasture wide,Great herds of breeding cattle, ghostly sheep—All to be watched and cared for, clipt and fed,Grain to be winnowed, compost to be spread;—Wanted all day in shippon and in stall,What time haveIto serve the “Ideal” withal?

But in the name of heaven, what pledge have I

Given this “Ideal” that’s ever on your tongue?

I’m married, have a family, twelve young

And helpless innocents to clothe and keep;

I have my daily calls on every side,

Churches remote and glebe and pasture wide,

Great herds of breeding cattle, ghostly sheep—

All to be watched and cared for, clipt and fed,

Grain to be winnowed, compost to be spread;—

Wanted all day in shippon and in stall,

What time haveIto serve the “Ideal” withal?

Falk.

Then get you home with what dispatch you may,Creep snugly in before the winter-cold;Look, in young Norway dawns at last the day,Thousand brave hearts are in its ranks enroll’d,Its banners in the morning breezes play!

Then get you home with what dispatch you may,

Creep snugly in before the winter-cold;

Look, in young Norway dawns at last the day,

Thousand brave hearts are in its ranks enroll’d,

Its banners in the morning breezes play!

Strawman.

And if, young man, I were to take my wayWith bag and baggage home, with everythingThat made me yesterday a little king,Were mine the onlyvolte faceto-day?Think you I carry back the wealth I brought?[AsFalkis about to answer.Nay, listen, let me first explain my thought.[Coming nearer.Time was when I was young, like you, and playedLike you, the unconquerable Titan’s part;Year after year I toiled and moiled for bread,Which hardens a man’s hand, but not his heart.For northern fells my lonely home surrounded,And by my parish bounds my world was bounded.My home—Ah, Falk, I wonder, do you knowWhat home is?

And if, young man, I were to take my way

With bag and baggage home, with everything

That made me yesterday a little king,

Were mine the onlyvolte faceto-day?

Think you I carry back the wealth I brought?

[AsFalkis about to answer.

Nay, listen, let me first explain my thought.

[Coming nearer.

Time was when I was young, like you, and played

Like you, the unconquerable Titan’s part;

Year after year I toiled and moiled for bread,

Which hardens a man’s hand, but not his heart.

For northern fells my lonely home surrounded,

And by my parish bounds my world was bounded.

My home—Ah, Falk, I wonder, do you know

What home is?

Falk[curtly].

I have never known.

Strawman.

Just so.That is a home, where five may dwell with ease,Tho’ two would be a crowd, if enemies.That is a home, where all your thoughts play freeAs boys and girls about their father’s knee,Where speech no sooner touches heart, than tongueDarts back an answering harmony of song;Where you may grow from flax-haired snowy-polled,And not a soul take note that you grow old;Where memories grow fairer as they fade,Like far blue peaks beyond the forest glade.

Just so.

That is a home, where five may dwell with ease,

Tho’ two would be a crowd, if enemies.

That is a home, where all your thoughts play free

As boys and girls about their father’s knee,

Where speech no sooner touches heart, than tongue

Darts back an answering harmony of song;

Where you may grow from flax-haired snowy-polled,

And not a soul take note that you grow old;

Where memories grow fairer as they fade,

Like far blue peaks beyond the forest glade.

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