Nils' tears wet the snow, while he kicked and he struck;
The more that he kicked there, the deeper he stuck.
—"That was good!" rumbled yonder.
The birch-trees, they danced, and the pine-trees said "Hoo!"
They more were than one,—were a hundred and two.
—"Know your way?" rumbled yonder.
A laugh shook the ridge till it made the snow fly;
But Nils clenched his fists and he swore 't was a lie.
—"Now beware!" rumbled yonder.
The snow-field yawned wide, and the heavens came low;
Nils thought 't was now time for him also to go.
—"Is he gone?" rumbled yonder.—
Two skis in the snow looked about everywhere,
But saw nothing much; for there was nothing there.
—"Where is Nils?" rumbled yonder.
THE MAIDENS' SONG (FROM HALTE HULDA)
Good-morning, sun, 'mid the leaves so green —
Mind of youth in the dales' deep reaches,
Smile that brightens their somber speeches,
Heaven's gold on our earth-dust seen!
Good-morning, sun, o'er the royal tower!
Kindly thou beckonest forth each maiden;
Kindle each heart as a star light-laden,
Twinkling so clear, though a sad night lower!
Good-morning, sun, o'er the mountain-side!
Light the land that still sleep disguises
Till it awakens and fresh arises
For yonder day in thy warmth's full tide!