Der staaer et Slot i Vesterled,
Tækket med gyldne Skjolde;
Did gaaer hver Aften Solen ned
Bag Rosenskyernes Volde.
Det Slot blev ei med Hænder gjort:
Mageløst staaer det smykket;
Fra Jord til Himmel naaer dets Port;
Vor Herre selv det har bygget.

Fra tusind Taarne funkler Guld;
Porten skinner som Ravet;
Med Straalestøtter underfuld
Sig Borgen speiler i Havet.
Guds Sol gaaer i sit Guldslot ind,
Skinner i Purpurklæder.
I Rosensky paa Borgens Tind
Staaer Lysets Banner med Hæder.

Solenglen svinger Lysets Flag,
Vandrer til fjerne Lande;
Ham følger Liv og Lys og Dag
Bag Nattens brusende Vande.
Liig Solen farer Livet hen,
Gaaer til Forklaringskysten:
Med Glands opdukker Sol igjen
Fra Paradiset i Østen.


About Bernhard Severin Ingemann


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Poet of the day

George Essex Evans was an Australian poet.

Biography

Evans was born in London on 18 June 1863. Both his parents were Welsh. Evans's father, John Evans, Q.C., died in 1864 when Evans was only a few months old. John Evans, who was the Treasurer of the Inner Temple and a...
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Poem of the day


In o'er-strict calyx lingering,
Lay music's bud too long unblown,
Till thou, Beethoven, breathed the spring:
Then bloomed the perfect rose of tone.

O Psalmist of the weak, the strong,
O Troubadour of love and strife,
Co-Litanist of right and wrong,
Sole Hymner of...
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