During A Journey In Sweden

(See Note 28)     My boyish heart in thee confided,      For to the great by thee 't was guided.     As man, my waiting is for thee, -      The Northern cause with thee, with thee!     Rich lands and talents are thy dower,     But fallow lie thy wealth and power.     Thou must the North in concord bind,     Or never shalt thy true self find.     There's longing in thy folk arisen,     Poetic hope - but yet in prison.     Though forces great within thee dwell,     Thou art not wholly sound and well.     Too many things are undertaken,     Too oft the task is soon forsaken.     Though rich in promptings of the heart,     In faith and duty faint thou art.     In danger only hast thou thriven,     When something great to guard was given.     When every breast with warmth shall glow     At Sweden's name, thy strength thou'lt know.     What's thine alone lifts not thy feeling,     Till honor's cause the skies are pealing,     Thou hast no joy but daring deed     In fortune's favor or in need.     For thy fair memories inspiring     Are far too great, much