Freedom's father-power strong,
Freedom's mother-wrath and song.
Giant-stout, a youth self-taught,
Soon a giant's work he wrought.
Ever he, full of glee,
Thought and wit and melody,
Mighty, merry, made his way,-
Labor's toil or battle-fray.
Enemies whom none could tell
Lay in wait this foe to fell,
Found him waking all too stark,
Sought his sleeping hours to mark,
Tried their skill, bound him still;
When he wakened, they fared ill.
Glad he forward strode firm-paced,
Full of power, full of haste.
Bare fields blossom 'neath his feet,
Commerce swells about his seat,
From his fire gleam thought-rays bright,-
All things doubled are in might!
For the land law he planned,
Keeps it, guards with head and hand,
Of all rue and error quit,
Crushing him who injures it.
Freedom's God is God of light,
Not the bondsman's god of fright,-
God of love and brotherhood,
Springtime's hope and will for good.
To earth's ends
peace
He sends!
Heed the words His law commends:
'One your Lord, and I am He,
Have no other gods but Me!'
Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-of-freedom-to/
