Here you may see I’ve been hewing and building;—
It must down again, dear; it is ugly and mean——
Solveig.
Be it mean or brave,—here is all to my mind.
One so lightly draws breath in the teeth of the wind.
Down below it was airless; one felt as though choked;
That was partly what drove me in fear from the dale.
But here, with the fir-branches soughing o’erhead,—
What a stillness and song!—I am here in my home.
Peer.