Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Sidor ...
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
Below is the raw OCR text
from the above scanned image.
Do you see an error? Proofread the page now!
Här nedan syns maskintolkade texten från faksimilbilden ovan.
Ser du något fel? Korrekturläs sidan nu!
This page has never been proofread. / Denna sida har aldrig korrekturlästs.
HAMAR-MADE MATCHES 183
The light that thanksgiving arouses
Shall scatter the darkness fell.
His matches in thousands of houses !—
Some eve from his factory
He’ll see how thanksgiving arouses
The land, and its love flames free.
He ’ll see in the eyes so tender,
Through gleams that his matches woke,
The thanks that his nation would render,
His glistening wreath of oak,—
He’ll feel that Norway with double
The warmth of other lands glows;
The harvest must more be than trouble,
When faith in its future grows.
“Here your Hamar-made matches!”
No phosphorus-poison more!
The bearer of light up-catches
The work of the school before: —
From home all the poison taking,
Hastening the light’s advance,
Longings to warm light waking,
That lay there and had no chance.
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
