In Denmark gone is many a year, So fair upriseth the rim of the su… Two sons of Gorm the King there w… So grey is the sea when day is don… Both these were gotten in lawful b…

Summer looked for long am I: Much shall change or e’er I die. Prithee take it not amiss Though I weary thee with bliss.

Wearily, drearily, Half the day long, Flap the great banners High over the stone; Strangely and eerily

The King has asked of his son so… “Why art thou hushed and heavy of… O fair it is to ride abroad. Thou playest not, and thou laughes… All thy good game is clean forgot.…

TRANSLATED FROM THE DAN… Hellelil sitteth in bower there, None knows my grief but God alone… And seweth at the seam so fair, I never wail my sorrow to any othe…

Ye who have come o’er the sea to behold this grey minster of lan… Whose floor is the tomb of time pa… and whose walls by the toil of dea… Show pictures amidst of the ruin

How the wind howls this morn About the end of May, And drives June on apace To mock the world forlorn And the world’s joy passed away

A STORY FROM THE LAN… At Deildar-Tongue in the autumn-t… So many times over comes summer ag… Stood Odd of Tongue his door besi… What healing in summer if winter b…

Fair now is the springtide, now ea… With the eyes of a lover, the face… Long lasteth the daylight, and hop… The green-growing acres with incre… Now sweet, sweet it is through the…

am the handmaid of the earth, I broider fair her glorious gown, And deck her on her days of mirth With many a garland of renown. And while Earth’s little ones are…

I am Night: I bring again Hope of pleasure, rest from pain: Thoughts unsaid 'twixt Life and D… My fruitful silence quickeneth.

Winter in the world it is, Round about the unhoped kiss Whose dream I long have sorrowed… Round about the longing sore, That the touch of thee shall turn

Love is enough: through the troubl… From yesterday’s dawning to yester… I sought through the vales where t… Till, wearied and bleeding, at end… I met him, and we wrestled, and gr…

What part of the dread eternity Are those strange minutes that I… Mazed with the doubt of love and p… When I thy delicate face may see, A little while before farewell?

I am Winter, that do keep Longing safe amidst of sleep: Who shall say if I were dead What should be remembered?