Johan Ludvig Heiberg 1860

To the grave they bore him sleeping,
 Him the aged, genial gardener;
Now the children gifts are heaping
 From the flower-bed he made.

There the tree that he sat under,
 And the garden gate is open,
While we cast a glance and wonder
 Whether some one sits there still.

He is gone. A woman only
 Wanders there with languid footsteps,
Clothed in black and now so lonely,
 Where his laughter erst rang clear.

As a child when past it going,
 Through the fence she looked with longing,
Now great tears so freely flowing
 Are her thanks that she came in.

Fairy-tales and thoughts high-soaring
 Whispered to him 'neath the foliage.
She flits softly, gathering, storing
 Them as solace for her woe.

*

Far his wanderings once bore him,
 Bore this aged, genial searcher;
One who listening sat before him
 Much could learn from time to time.

Life and letters were his ladder
 Up toward that which few discover,
Thought's wide realm, with vision gladder
 He explored, each summit scaled.

In his manhood he defended
 All that greatness has and beauty;
Later he the stars attended
 In their silent course to God.

*

Older men remember rather
"New Year!" ringing o'er the Northland.
How it power had to gather
 Leaders to a greater age

Do you him remember leaping
 Forth, his horn so gladly winding,
Back the mob on all sides sweeping
 From the progress of the great?

Play of thought 'mid tears and laughter,
 Fauns and children were about him;
Freedom's beacons high thereafter
 Kindled slowly of themselves.

And his words soon found a hearing,
 Peace of heart flowed from his music;
All the land thrilled to the nearing
 Of a great prophetic choir.

**

In his manhood he defended
 All that greatness has and beauty;
Later he the stars attended
 In their silent course to God.

Northern flowers were his pleasure,
 As an aged genial gardener,
From his nation's springtime treasure
 Culling seed for deathless growth.

Now with humor, now sedately,
 He kept planting or uprooting,
While the Danish beech-tree stately
 Gave his soul its evening peace.

There the tree we saw him under,
 And the garden gate is open,
While we cast a glance and wonder
 Whether some one sits there still.

Rate this poem:(0.00 / 0 votes)
50 Views

Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson was a Norwegian writer and the 1903 Nobel Prize in Literature laureate. more…

All Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson poems | Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson Books

FAVORITE (1 fan)

Translation

Find a translation for this poem in other languages:

Select another language:

  • - Select -
  • Chinese - Simplified 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
  • Chinese - Traditional 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
  • Spanish Español (Spanish)
  • Japanese 日本語 (Japanese)
  • Portuguese Português (Portuguese)
  • German Deutsch (German)
  • Arabic العربية (Arabic)
  • French Français (French)
  • Russian Русский (Russian)
  • Kannada ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
  • Korean 한국어 (Korean)
  • Hebrew עברית (Hebrew)
  • Ukrainian Український (Ukrainian)
  • Urdu اردو (Urdu)
  • Hungarian Magyar (Hungarian)
  • Hindi मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
  • Indonesian Indonesia (Indonesian)
  • Italian Italiano (Italian)
  • Tamil தமிழ் (Tamil)
  • Turkish Türkçe (Turkish)
  • Telugu తెలుగు (Telugu)
  • Thai ภาษาไทย (Thai)
  • Vietnamese Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
  • Czech Čeština (Czech)
  • Polish Polski (Polish)
  • Indonesian Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
  • Romanian Românește (Romanian)
  • Dutch Nederlands (Dutch)
  • Greek Ελληνικά (Greek)
  • Latin Latinum (Latin)
  • Swedish Svenska (Swedish)
  • Danish Dansk (Danish)
  • Finnish Suomi (Finnish)
  • Persian فارسی (Persian)
  • Yiddish ייִדיש (Yiddish)
  • Armenian հայերեն (Armenian)
  • Norwegian Norsk (Norwegian)
  • English English (English)

Discuss this Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson poem with the community:

Citation

Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:

Style:MLAChicagoAPA

"Johan Ludvig Heiberg 1860" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 20 Jun 2019. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/4358/johan-ludvig-heiberg-1860>.

We need you!

Help us build the largest poetry community and poems collection on the web!

Thanks for your vote! We truly appreciate your support.