Romsdal Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AABBCCDDE FGGHH IIFJK KLLM BBBGBG NBBNBGGBOBOB BBBBPPBBDQOQOBBB ROROGGGBBGOSSTU OOOBBOVOOV BBWJWJJ OU UODD DB BBBBXXOWW GDGDUU OOYY G BGG BBBYYOBBO YSSY BBUUO OYYOODD| Come up on deck The morning is clear | A |
| Memory wakes as the landmarks appear | A |
| How many the islands green and cheery | B |
| The salt licking skerries weed wound smeary | B |
| On this side on that side they frolic before us | C |
| Good friends but wild in frightened chorus | C |
| Sea fowl shriek round us a flying legion | D |
| We are in a region | D |
| Of storms historic unique for aye | E |
| - | |
| We fare the fishermen's venturesome way | F |
| Far out the bank and the big fish shoaling | G |
| The captain narrates and just now unrolling | G |
| Sails run to shore a swift racing match | H |
| Good is the catch | H |
| - | |
| Yes yes I recognize them again | I |
| Romsdal's boats' weather beaten men | I |
| They | F |
| know | J |
| how to sail when need's at hand | K |
| - | |
| But I'm forgetting to look towards land | K |
| It whelms the sight | L |
| Like lightning bright | L |
| In memory graven but not so great | M |
| - | |
| Wherever I suffer my eyes to wander | B |
| Stand mountain giants both here and yonder | B |
| The loin of one by the other's shoulder | B |
| Naught else to where earth and sky are blending | G |
| The dread of a world's din daunts the beholder | B |
| The silence vastens the vision unending | G |
| - | |
| Some are in white and others in blue | N |
| With pointed tops that emulous tower | B |
| Some mass their power | B |
| In marching columns their purpose pursue | N |
| Away you small folk In there 'The Preacher' | B |
| In high assembly the service intoning | G |
| Of magnates primeval their patriarch owning | G |
| Of what does he preach my childhood's teacher | B |
| So often so often to him I listened | O |
| In eager worship devout and lowly | B |
| My songs were christened | O |
| In light that fell from his whiteness holy | B |
| - | |
| How great it is I can finish never | B |
| Great thoughts that in life and legend we treasure | B |
| Stream towards the scene in persistent endeavor | B |
| The mighty impression to grasp and measure | B |
| Dame's hell India's myth panorama | P |
| Shakespeare's earth overarching drama | P |
| Aeschylus' thunders that purge and free | B |
| Beethoven's powerful symphony | B |
| They widen and heighten they cloud and brighten | D |
| Like small ants scrambling and soft cooing doves | Q |
| They tumble backward and flee affrighted | O |
| As if a dandy in dress coat and gloves | Q |
| The mountains approached and to dance invited | O |
| No tempt them not Their retainer be | B |
| You'll learn then later | B |
| How life with the great must make you greater | B |
| - | |
| If you are humble they'll say it themselves | R |
| That something is greater than e'en their greatest | O |
| Look how the little river that delves | R |
| High in the notch within limits straitest | O |
| Through ice first burrowed and stone a brook | G |
| Slowly the giants asunder wearing | G |
| Unmoved before their face now and bearing | G |
| They had to change 'mid the spring flood's laughter | B |
| Millions of years have followed thereafter | B |
| Millions of years it also took | G |
| In stamps the fjord now to look on their party | O |
| Lifts his sou' wester gives greeting to them | S |
| Whoever at times in their fog could view them | S |
| Has seen him near to their very noses | T |
| The fjord's not famed for his well bred poses | U |
| - | |
| Towards him hurry all white foam faced | O |
| Brooks and rivers in whirling haste | O |
| All of his family frolicsome naughty | O |
| If ever the mountains the fjord would immure | B |
| Their narrows press nigher a prison sure | B |
| His water hands then with a gesture haughty | O |
| Seize the whole saucy pass like a shell | V |
| Set to his mouth he begins to blow it | O |
| With western gale lungs and then you may know it | O |
| Loud is the noise and the swift currents swell | V |
| - | |
| Forcing the coast a big fjord black and gray | B |
| Breaks us our way | B |
| Waterfalls rushing on both sides rumble | W |
| Sponge wet and slow | J |
| Cloud masses over the mountain flanks fumble | W |
| The sun and mist lo | J |
| Symbol of struggle eternal show | J |
| - | |
| This is my Romsdal's unruly land | O |
| Home love rejoices | U |
| - | |
| All things I see have eyes and have voices | U |
| The people I know them each man understand | O |
| Though never I saw him nor with him have spoken | D |
| I know this folk for the fjord is their token | D |
| - | |
| - | |
| One | D |
| is the fjord in the storm's battle fray | B |
| - | |
| Another | B |
| is he when the sunbeams play | B |
| In midsummer's splendor | B |
| And radiant happy his heart is tender | B |
| Whatever has form | X |
| He bears on his breast with affection warm | X |
| Mirrors it fondles it | O |
| Be it so bare as the mossy gray rubble | W |
| Be it so brief as a brook's fleeting bubble | W |
| - | |
| Oh what a brightness Beauty soul ravishing | G |
| Shines from his prayer that now he be shriven | D |
| Of all the past And penitence lavishing | G |
| All he confesses with glad homage given | D |
| Mirrors and masses | U |
| Deep the mountains' high peaks and passes | U |
| - | |
| The old giants think now He's not really bad | O |
| In greater degree he's wrathful and glad | O |
| Than others perchance is false not at all | Y |
| But reckless capricious true son of Romsdal | Y |
| - | |
| Right are the mountains This race type keeping | G |
| - | |
| They | B |
| saw men creeping | G |
| Over the ridges scant fodder reaping | G |
| - | |
| They | B |
| saw men eager | B |
| Toil on the sea though their take was meager | B |
| Plow the steep slope and trench the bog valley | Y |
| To bouts with the rock the brown nag rally | Y |
| Saw their faults flaunted | O |
| Buck like they bicker | B |
| Love well their liquor | B |
| But know not defeat hoist the sail undaunted | O |
| - | |
| Different the districts but all in all | Y |
| Spirits vivacious with longings that spur them | S |
| Depths full of song with billows that stir them | S |
| Folk of the fjord and the sudden squall | Y |
| - | |
| Viking abode I hail you with wonder | B |
| High built the wall broad sea floor thereunder | B |
| Hall lit by sun bows on waterfall vapors | U |
| Hangings of green your dwellers the drapers | U |
| Viking born race 't is you I exalt | O |
| - | |
| It costs in under so high a vault | O |
| A struggle long unto lordship stable | Y |
| Not all who have tried to succeed were able | Y |
| It costs to recover the wealth of the fjord | O |
| From wanton waste and in power to hoard | O |
| It costs but who conquers is made a man | D |
| I know there are that can | D |
Bjarnstjerne Bjarnson
(1)
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About Romsdal
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