Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Scotland: Vols. VI–VIII. 1876–79.
Autumn Farewell to Drottningholm
By King Charles XV. (1826–1872)T
Towards distant lands, and that resplendent glow
Which, late at eve, flamed upward to the zenith,
No longer now the Norland fields shall know.
And wood and mead, which, in their vernal gladness,
Laughed out to man beneath the azure sky,
Stand wan and sere, and clouds weep tears of sadness,
And even the little birds sit silent by.
The lovely peace of each sweet summer day,
When heaven itself brought down to earth its pleasures,
And winds their warfare changed to merry play;
When flowers sent up their offering of sweetness,
As incense to the God of day and night,
And lifted to the sun their fair completeness
Obedient to the holy law of light.
And laughter changes soon to sorrow’s tear;
As the green herb, anon, foregoes its glory,
So man advances onward to his bier.
Yet if the faithful heart have kept in clearness
The sunny moments of the passing day,
Still shall they cast amidst autumnal drearness
Of the lost summer a surviving ray.
Thou loveliest pearl beside the Mälar coast.
Nor shall sweet memory’s bond ’twixt us be broken,
Where’er my bark on life’s rough sea be tossed!
To thee my heart will yearn when sorrow shroudeth
My world of thought and all is dark as night;
And if thick mist the future overcloudeth,
I will ascend unto the past delight.
Where Flora scattered all her pomp abroad,
And elves amidst the full moon’s lights and shadows
Traced magic rings in dances on the sward;
Thou shore, reed-garlanded, where softly stringing
His harp at eve the Necken charms the scene;
Thou wood, made musical with wild birds’ singing,
And waters lapsing through the leafy screen.
In the still waters, where my light bark drove
The downward depth which still my gaze rejected,
Turning instead unto the heaven above;
Have thanks for all the quiet joy supernal,
Which in my heart’s recess by thee was laid,
The whilst thy azure vault of truth eternal
Expanded as a blessing, o’er my head!
Gives forth these accents of my parting song!
Yet thou in memory wilt be sorrow’s healing,
And speed the mournful winter night along;
I ’ll think of thee when autumn fogs are glooming,
O Drottningholm! for still thy sun will shine:
Thou art to me in every season blooming,
And peaceful lilies round thy name entwine!