KING CHRISTIAN.

A NATIONAL SONG OF DENMARK.-FROM THE DANISH OF JOHANNES EVALD.

KING CHRISTIAN stood by the lofty mast

In mist and smoke;

His sword was hammering so fast,

Through Gothic helm and brain it passed;
Then sank each hostile hulk and mast,

In mist and smoke.

"Fly!" shouted they, "fly, he who can!
Who braves of Denmark's Christian

The stroke?"

Nils Juel gave heed to the tempest's roar,
Now is the hour!

He hoisted his blood-red flag once more,

And smote upon the foe full sore,

And shouted loud, through the tempest's roar,
"Now is the hour!"

"Fly!" shouted they, "for shelter fly!
Of Denmark's Juel who can defy

The power?"

North Sea! a glimpse of Wessel rent

Thy murky sky!

Then champions to thine arms were sent ;

Terror and Death glared where he went;

From the waves was heard a wail, that rent

Thy murky sky!

From Denmark, thunders Tordenskiol',
Let each to Heaven commend his soul,

And fly!

Path of the Dane to fame and might!

Dark-rolling wave!

Receive thy friend, who, scorning flight,

Goes to meet danger with despite,
Proudly as thou the tempest's might,
Dark-rolling wave!

And amid pleasures and alarms,
And war and victory, be thine arms

My grave!

The landlord's daughter filled their cups,

Around the rustic board;

Then sat they all so calm and still,
And spake not one rude word.

But, when the maid departed,
A Swabian raised his hand,

And cried, all hot and flushed with wine,

"Hold your tongues! both Swabian and Saxon!"

A bold Bohemian cries;

"If there's a heaven upon this earth,

In Bohemia it lies.

"There the tailor blows the flute,

And the cobbler blows the horn,

And the miner blows the bugle,

Over mountain gorge and bourn."

*

*

And then the landlord's daughter

Up to heaven raised her hand,
And said, "Ye may no more contend,
There lies the happiest land!"