Mother, I'm tired, and I would fain be sleeping;
Let me repose upon thy bosom sick;
But promise me that thou wilt leave off weeping,
Because thy tears fall hot upon my cheek. ...
How bright the room seemed! It was as if a ray of light came from the book, a luminous tree whose branches spread out across the ceiling. The leaves were fresh and green and on each branch flowers bloomed and fruit hung. The flowers were faces of young maidens, some with radiant dark eyes and other(s) with clear blue ones. The fruits were sparkling stars. All the while the most beautiful music could be heard.
See Solen gaaer ned i det deiligste Rødt,
I Stakker staaer Høet og dufter saa sødt.
En Bonde gaaer hjem med Lee paa sin Ryg,
I Luften dandse de surrende Myg. ...
Jeg elsker Havet, naar det stormer vildt!
Jeg elsker det, naar Fladen ligger mildt,
Og Maanen speiler sig i Dybets Blaae.
Jeg elsker Bjergene, jeg aldrig saae! ...