Hymn Of The Puritans (From Maria Stuart)

Arm me, Lord, my strength redouble,
Heaven open, heed my trouble!
God, if my cause Thine shall be,
Grant a day of victory!
Fell all Thy foes now!
Fell all Thy foes now!
Roll forth Thy thunders, Thy lightning affright them,
Into the pit, the bottomless, smite them,
        Their seed uproot,
        Tread under foot!
Send then Thy snowy white dove peace-bringing,
Unto Thy faithful Thy token winging,
Olive-branch fair of Thy summer's fruition
After the deluge of sin's punition!

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson was a Norwegian writer and one of the four great Norwegian writers, along with Henrik Ibsen, Jonas Lie, and Alexander Kielland. Bjørnson is recognized for his pivotal role in Norwegian literature and his works contributing significantly to Norwegian national identity. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1903 and also wrote the lyrics to the Norwegian national anthem, 'Ja, vi elsker dette landet'. Bjørnson was an influential figure in Norway's cultural and political life during his lifetime.

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson

To Aasmund Olafsen Vinje

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

A Meeting

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

Ingerid Sletten (From Arne)

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

At Hansteen's Bier (1873)

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Hymn

In The Time Of War And Tumults

O Lord Almighty, Thou whose hands
    Despair and victory give;
In whom, though tyrants tread their lands,
    The souls of nations live;

Thou wilt not turn Thy face away
    From those who work Thy will,
But send Thy peace on hearts that pray,
    And guard Thy people still.

Remember not the days of shame,
    The hands with rapine dyed,
The wavering will, the baser aim,
    The brute material pride:

Remember, Lord, the years of faith,
    The spirits humbly brave,
The strength that died defying death,
    The love that loved the slave:

The race that strove to rule Thine earth
    With equal laws unbought: .
Who bore for Truth the pangs of birth,
    And brake the bonds of Though...

Henry John Newbolt

The Bier Of Precentor A. Reitan (1872)

(See Note 56)

With smiles his soft eyes ever gleamed,
When God and country thinking;
With endless joy, his soul, it seemed,
Faith, fatherland, was linking.
    His word, his song,
    Like springs flowed strong;
They fruitful made the valley long,
And quickened all there drinking.

Poor people and poor homes among
In wintry region saddest,
In Sunday's choir he always sung,
Of all the world the gladdest:
    "The axis stout
    It turns about,
Falls not the poorest home without,
For thus, O God, Thou badest."

With sickness came a heavy year
And put to proof his singing,
While helpless children standing near
His trust to test were bringing.
    But glad the more,
    As soft notes soar
When winds o'er hidden ha...

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson

Hymn For The Opening Of Thomas Starr Kings House Of Worship, 1864

Amidst these glorious works of Thine,
The solemn minarets of the pine,
And awful Shasta's icy shrine,

Where swell Thy hymns from wave and gale,
And organ-thunders never fail,
Behind the cataract's silver veil,

Our puny walls to Thee we raise,
Our poor reed-music sounds Thy praise:
Forgive, O Lord, our childish ways!

For, kneeling on these altar-stairs,
We urge Thee not with selfish prayers,
Nor murmur at our daily cares.

Before Thee, in an evil day,
Our country's bleeding heart we lay,
And dare not ask Thy hand to stay;

But, through the war-cloud, pray to Thee
For union, but a union free,
With peace that comes of purity!

That Thou wilt bare Thy arm to, save
And, smiting through this Red Sea wave,
Make bro...

John Greenleaf Whittier

Hymn Before Action

The earth is full of anger,
The seas are dark with wrath,
The Nations in their harness
Go up against our path:
Ere yet we loose the legions,
Ere yet we draw the blade,
Jehovah of the Thunders,
Lord God of Battles, aid!

High lust and froward bearing,
Proud heart, rebellious brow,
Deaf ear and soul uncaring,
We seek Thy mercy now!
The sinner that forswore Thee,
The fool that passed Thee by,
Our times are known before Thee,
Lord, grant us strength to die!

For those who kneel beside us
At altars not Thine own,
Who lack the lights that guide us,
Lord, let their faith atone!
If wrong we did to call them,
By honour bound they came;
Let not Thy Wrath befall them,
But deal to us the blame.

From panic, pride, and...

Rudyard

Oh, When Will You Stand Forth?

(See Note 59)

Oh, when will you stand forth, who with strength can bring aid,
To strike down the injustice and lies
That my house have beset, and with malice blockade
Every pathway I out for my powers have laid,
And would hidden means find
With deceit and with hate
To set watch on my mind
And defile every plate
In my beautiful home where defenseless we wait?

Oh, when will you stand forth? This detraction through years
For my people has made me an oaf,
Hides my poetry's fount in the fog of its fleers,
So it merely a pool of self-worship appears;
Like a clumsy troll I
Am contemned with affront,
Whom all "cultured" folk fly,
Or yet gather to hunt,
That their hunger of hate at a feast they may blunt.

When I publish a book: "It is h...

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson

Hunting Song (From Maria Stuart)

Round us rolls the heather's sheen,
    Heather's sheen,
'Neath the falcon of our queen,
    Of our queen.

Birch and cherry balm exhale,
    Balm exhale,
Loud our horns the cliffs assail,
    Cliffs assail.

Light the air and clear the sky,
    Clear the sky, -
Hurrah! onward, she is nigh,
    She is nigh.

Hunt ye joy with every breath,
    Every breath,
Hunt it to the stream of death,
    Stream of death!

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson