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To The Dannebrog
(When Dybbol was captured)
Dannebrog of old was seeming
Snow-white, rosy red,
Through the mists of ages beaming,
Heaven's gift outspread,
Rich as fruits of Denmark's planting,
Grand as song of heroes chanting,
Spirit-winged to deeds of daring
O'er the wide world faring.
Dannebrog, thou now art seeming
Death-pale, bloody red,
Like a dying sea-gull gleaming
White with blood o'erspread.
Purple tides the wounds are showing
From thy faith in justice flowing;
Denmark, bear the cross, thy burden
Honor is thy guerdon!
poem
by
Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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