Ánaudar vid eymd og grönd!
Ydar sona thrældóms bönd!
Vjer viljum láta lif og önd,
En leysa úr hlekkjum thá!
Fellid grimma fjendur thví!
Sól, eda ordna ad ná!
After finally arranging with Zöga to start for the Geysers at 8 o’clock next morning, Dr. Mackinlay, Mr. Haycock, Professor Chadbourne and I took a walk through the town, called for Dr. Hjaltalin, who unfortunately was not at home, and strolled along to the churchyard. It is surrounded by a low stone and turf wall. We gathered forget-me-nots, catch-flies, saxifrage and butter-cups among the grass; observed artificial flowers, rudely made of muslin and worsted, stuck upon a grave, but do not know if this is an Icelandic custom or the work of the stranger over the last resting place of a comrade.
Looking down upon Reykjavik from the elevation on which we stand all is bright in the mellow glare of evening; the windows of the houses gleam in the sun like the great jewel of Ghiamsheed; the near Essian mountains have a ruddy glow, and the bay, intensely blue, is gay with vessels and flags.