Now hurrying to the dance from hidden graves;

The waving outline of thy wooded mountains,

Thy populous towns that stretch from forest fountains

On either side, far to the salty main,

Like golden coins alternate on a chain.

Thou pathway of the empire of the North,

Thy praises through the earth have traveled forth!

I hear thee praised as one who hears the shout

That follows when a hero from the rout

Of battle issues, “Lo, how brave is he,