Thorberg Skafting, master-builder… In his ship-yard by the sea, Whistling, said, ‘It would bewild… Any man but Thorberg Skafting, Any man but me!’

‘Now that is after my own heart,’ The Poet cried; 'one understands Your swarthy hero Scanderbeg, Gauntlet on hand and boot on leg, And skilled in every warlike art,

There sat one day in quiet, By an alehouse on the Rhine, Four hale and hearty fellows, And drank the precious wine. The landlord’s daughter filled the…

DEVEREUX FARM, NEAR M… We sat within the farm-house old, Whose windows, looking o’er the ba… Gave to the sea-breeze damp and co… An easy entrance, night and day.

When the long murmur of applause That greeted the Musician’s lay Had slowly buzzed itself away, And the long talk of Spectre Ship… That followed died upon their lips

THIS is the forest primeval. The… Bearded with moss, and in garments… Stand like Druids of eld, with vo… Stand like harpers hoar, with bear… Loud from its rocky caverns, the d…

Lull me to sleep, ye winds, whose… Seems from some faint Aeolian har… Seal up the hundred wakeful eyes o… As Hermes with his lyre in sleep… The hundred wakeful eyes of Argus…

Hence away, begone, begone, Carking care and melancholy! Think ye thus to govern me All my life long, as ye have done? That shall ye not, I promise ye;

I pace the sounding sea—beach and… How the voluminous billows roll an… Upheaving and subsiding, while the… Shines through their sheeted emera… And the ninth wave, slow gathering…

In the convent of Drontheim, Alone in her chamber Knelt Astrid the Abbess, At midnight, adoring, Beseeching, entreating

This is the forest primeval. The… Bearded with moss, and in garments… Stand like Druids of eld, with vo… Stand like harpers hoar, with bear… Loud from its rocky caverns, the d…

Lo! in the painted oriel of the W… Whose panes the sunken sun incarna… Like a fair lady at her casement,… The evening star, the star of love… And then anon she doth herself div…

In broad daylight, and at noon, Yesterday I saw the moon Sailing high, but faint and white, As a schoolboy’s paper kite. In broad daylight, yesterday,

As treasures that men seek, Deep buried in sea-sands, Vanish if they but speak, And elude their eager hands, So ye escape and slip,

Sir Oluf he rideth over the plain… Full seven miles broad and seven m… But never, ah never, can meet with… A tilt with him dare ride. He saw under the hill-side