Norwegian Seamen's Song (For The Stavanger Regatta, 1868)

(See Note 34)     Norwegian seamen are     A folk grown strong 'neath sail and spar;     Where boats can find a way,     The best men there are they.     On high seas or at home,     In calm or when the storm-waves comb,     To God their prayer they make,     Their lives they gladly stake.     Incessant is their strife,     They wage with death a war for life,     And dear their souls they sell     In conflicts none can tell.     All that is commonplace     In history seldom leaves its trace,     And often none is there,     The tidings home to bear.     But fishing-boats in need     Have shown so many a daring deed     Of courage fine and skill,     Though unrecorded still.     And many a seaman's head     A wreath of sea-weed wore when dead,     Whose name should shine in gold     Among great heroes bold.     Saint Olaf's Cross's praise     Would on that pilot fitly blaze     Who saved a hundred men,     And hundred once again.     To many a boy so young,     Who riding home to boat's keel clung,     His father set on board,     We honor should accord.     In Norway's mountain-coast     Our land's own mother-breast we boast,     With food for us and tears     For sons whom danger nears.     In it each deed has lot,     And there no brave son is forgot,     From Hafurfjord's great day     To the last castaway.     This each one felt and found     Who homeward came and looked around;     This each one felt who went,     In the last look he sent.     They felt the ocean o'er:     Their ships our country's fortune bore;     Honor and power it sought, -     And these the white sails brought.     Hurrah for them to-day     Who the Norwegian flag display!     Hurrah for pilots true     Who forth to meet them flew!     Hurrah for them who ply     Their fishing-boats 'twixt sea and sky!     Hurrah for all our boast,     Our skerry-skirted coast!