Come with me, you; I’ve got to showA church that’s built of ice and snow!
Come with me, you; I’ve got to showA church that’s built of ice and snow!
Come with me, you; I’ve got to showA church that’s built of ice and snow!
Come with me, you; I’ve got to show
A church that’s built of ice and snow!
Brand.
Brand.
Brand.
Of ice and snow! I see the truth!There, amid peak and precipiceAs I remember from my youth,There yawns a cavernous abyss;“Ice-church†they call’d the place of old;And of it many a tale was told;A frozen tarn has paved the floor;Aloft, in massy-piled blocks,The gather’d snow-drifts slope and soarArch-like over the yawning rocks.
Of ice and snow! I see the truth!There, amid peak and precipiceAs I remember from my youth,There yawns a cavernous abyss;“Ice-church†they call’d the place of old;And of it many a tale was told;A frozen tarn has paved the floor;Aloft, in massy-piled blocks,The gather’d snow-drifts slope and soarArch-like over the yawning rocks.
Of ice and snow! I see the truth!There, amid peak and precipiceAs I remember from my youth,There yawns a cavernous abyss;“Ice-church†they call’d the place of old;And of it many a tale was told;A frozen tarn has paved the floor;Aloft, in massy-piled blocks,The gather’d snow-drifts slope and soarArch-like over the yawning rocks.
Of ice and snow! I see the truth!
There, amid peak and precipice
As I remember from my youth,
There yawns a cavernous abyss;
“Ice-church†they call’d the place of old;
And of it many a tale was told;
A frozen tarn has paved the floor;
Aloft, in massy-piled blocks,
The gather’d snow-drifts slope and soar
Arch-like over the yawning rocks.
Gerd.
Gerd.
Gerd.
It seems a mountain-cleft,—ah, yes,It is a church, though, none the less.
It seems a mountain-cleft,—ah, yes,It is a church, though, none the less.
It seems a mountain-cleft,—ah, yes,It is a church, though, none the less.
It seems a mountain-cleft,—ah, yes,
It is a church, though, none the less.
Brand.
Brand.
Brand.
Never go there; a sudden gustHas often crack’d that hollow crust;A rifle shot, a scream, a whoop——
Never go there; a sudden gustHas often crack’d that hollow crust;A rifle shot, a scream, a whoop——
Never go there; a sudden gustHas often crack’d that hollow crust;A rifle shot, a scream, a whoop——
Never go there; a sudden gust
Has often crack’d that hollow crust;
A rifle shot, a scream, a whoop——
Gerd.[Without listening to him.]
Gerd.[Without listening to him.]
Gerd.
[Without listening to him.]
Just come and see a reindeer troopGulf’d in the fall, and never foundTill spring and the great thaw came round.
Just come and see a reindeer troopGulf’d in the fall, and never foundTill spring and the great thaw came round.
Just come and see a reindeer troopGulf’d in the fall, and never foundTill spring and the great thaw came round.
Just come and see a reindeer troop
Gulf’d in the fall, and never found
Till spring and the great thaw came round.
Brand.
Brand.
Brand.
Yonder is danger; go not near it!
Yonder is danger; go not near it!
Yonder is danger; go not near it!
Yonder is danger; go not near it!
Gerd.[Pointing down.]
Gerd.[Pointing down.]
Gerd.
[Pointing down.]
Yonder is foulness; thou must fear it!
Yonder is foulness; thou must fear it!
Yonder is foulness; thou must fear it!
Yonder is foulness; thou must fear it!
Brand.
Brand.
Brand.
God’s peace with you!
God’s peace with you!
God’s peace with you!
God’s peace with you!
Gerd.
Gerd.
Gerd.
Nay, this way pass!Yonder the cataract’s singing Mass;There on the crags the whistling weatherPreaches you hot and cold together.Thither the hawk will ne’er steal in;Down, down he sweeps from Svartetind,—Yonder he sits, the ugly block,Like my church-steeple’s weathercock.
Nay, this way pass!Yonder the cataract’s singing Mass;There on the crags the whistling weatherPreaches you hot and cold together.Thither the hawk will ne’er steal in;Down, down he sweeps from Svartetind,—Yonder he sits, the ugly block,Like my church-steeple’s weathercock.
Nay, this way pass!Yonder the cataract’s singing Mass;There on the crags the whistling weatherPreaches you hot and cold together.Thither the hawk will ne’er steal in;Down, down he sweeps from Svartetind,—Yonder he sits, the ugly block,Like my church-steeple’s weathercock.
Nay, this way pass!
Yonder the cataract’s singing Mass;
There on the crags the whistling weather
Preaches you hot and cold together.
Thither the hawk will ne’er steal in;
Down, down he sweeps from Svartetind,—
Yonder he sits, the ugly block,
Like my church-steeple’s weathercock.
Brand.
Brand.
Brand.
Wild is thy way, and wild thy soul,—A cittern with a shatter’d bowl.Of dulness dulness is the brood,—But evil’s lightly won to good.
Wild is thy way, and wild thy soul,—A cittern with a shatter’d bowl.Of dulness dulness is the brood,—But evil’s lightly won to good.
Wild is thy way, and wild thy soul,—A cittern with a shatter’d bowl.Of dulness dulness is the brood,—But evil’s lightly won to good.
Wild is thy way, and wild thy soul,—
A cittern with a shatter’d bowl.
Of dulness dulness is the brood,—
But evil’s lightly won to good.
Gerd.
Gerd.
Gerd.
With whirring wings I hear him come!I’ll e’en make shift to get me home!In yonder church I’m safe,—farewell;He’s on me,—hoo, how fierce and fell![She screams.]I’ll throw a stone! No nearer, now.If thou hast talons, I’ve a bough!
With whirring wings I hear him come!I’ll e’en make shift to get me home!In yonder church I’m safe,—farewell;He’s on me,—hoo, how fierce and fell![She screams.]I’ll throw a stone! No nearer, now.If thou hast talons, I’ve a bough!
With whirring wings I hear him come!I’ll e’en make shift to get me home!In yonder church I’m safe,—farewell;He’s on me,—hoo, how fierce and fell![She screams.]I’ll throw a stone! No nearer, now.If thou hast talons, I’ve a bough!
With whirring wings I hear him come!
I’ll e’en make shift to get me home!
In yonder church I’m safe,—farewell;
He’s on me,—hoo, how fierce and fell!
[She screams.]
I’ll throw a stone! No nearer, now.
If thou hast talons, I’ve a bough!
[She runs off up the mountain.
Brand.[After a pause.]
Brand.[After a pause.]
Brand.
[After a pause.]
This was a church-goer, like the rest.Mountain- or Dale-church, which is best?Which wildest reel, which blindest grope,Which furthest roam from home and hope:—Light-heartwho, crown’d with leafage gay,Loves by the dizziest verge to play,—Faint-heart, who marches slack and slow,Because old Wont will have it so;—Wild-heart, who, borne on lawless wings,Sees fairness in the foulest things?War front and rear, war high and low,With this fell triple-banded foe!I see my Call! It gleams aheadLike sunshine through a loop-hole shed!I know my task; these demons slain,The sick Earth shall grow sound again;—Once let them to the grave be given,The fever-fumes of Earth shall fly!Up, Soul, array thee! Sword from thigh!To battle for the heirs of Heaven!
This was a church-goer, like the rest.Mountain- or Dale-church, which is best?Which wildest reel, which blindest grope,Which furthest roam from home and hope:—Light-heartwho, crown’d with leafage gay,Loves by the dizziest verge to play,—Faint-heart, who marches slack and slow,Because old Wont will have it so;—Wild-heart, who, borne on lawless wings,Sees fairness in the foulest things?War front and rear, war high and low,With this fell triple-banded foe!I see my Call! It gleams aheadLike sunshine through a loop-hole shed!I know my task; these demons slain,The sick Earth shall grow sound again;—Once let them to the grave be given,The fever-fumes of Earth shall fly!Up, Soul, array thee! Sword from thigh!To battle for the heirs of Heaven!
This was a church-goer, like the rest.Mountain- or Dale-church, which is best?Which wildest reel, which blindest grope,Which furthest roam from home and hope:—Light-heartwho, crown’d with leafage gay,Loves by the dizziest verge to play,—Faint-heart, who marches slack and slow,Because old Wont will have it so;—Wild-heart, who, borne on lawless wings,Sees fairness in the foulest things?War front and rear, war high and low,With this fell triple-banded foe!I see my Call! It gleams aheadLike sunshine through a loop-hole shed!I know my task; these demons slain,The sick Earth shall grow sound again;—Once let them to the grave be given,The fever-fumes of Earth shall fly!Up, Soul, array thee! Sword from thigh!To battle for the heirs of Heaven!
This was a church-goer, like the rest.
Mountain- or Dale-church, which is best?
Which wildest reel, which blindest grope,
Which furthest roam from home and hope:—
Light-heartwho, crown’d with leafage gay,
Loves by the dizziest verge to play,—
Faint-heart, who marches slack and slow,
Because old Wont will have it so;—
Wild-heart, who, borne on lawless wings,
Sees fairness in the foulest things?
War front and rear, war high and low,
With this fell triple-banded foe!
I see my Call! It gleams ahead
Like sunshine through a loop-hole shed!
I know my task; these demons slain,
The sick Earth shall grow sound again;—
Once let them to the grave be given,
The fever-fumes of Earth shall fly!
Up, Soul, array thee! Sword from thigh!
To battle for the heirs of Heaven!
[He descends to the hamlet.