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| O, HAVE you been in Gudbrands dale, where Laagens mighty flood | |
| Chants evermore its wild refrain unto the listening wood? | |
| And have you seen the evening sun on those bright glaciers glow, | |
| When valleyward it shoots and darts like shafts from elfin bow? | |
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| Have you beheld the maidens when the saeter path they tread | 5 |
| With ribbons in their sunny hair and milk-pails on the head? | |
| And have you heard the fiddles when they strike the lusty dance? | |
| Then you have heard of Synnöv Houg, and of myself perchance. | |
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| For Synnöv Houg is lissome as the limber willow spray; | |
| And when you think you hold her fast, and she is yours for aye, | 10 |
| Then, like the airy blowball that dances oer the lea, | |
| She gently through your fingers slips and lightly floateth free. | |
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| Then it was last St. Johns Eve,I remember it so well, | |
| We lads had lit a bonfire in a grass-grown little dell; | |
| And all the pretty maidens were seated in a ring, | 15 |
| And some were telling stories, while the rest were listening; | |
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| Till up sprang little Synnöv, and she sang a stave as clear | |
| As the skylarks earliest greeting in the morning of the year; | |
| And II hardly knew myself, but up they saw me dart, | |
| For every note of Synnövs stave went straight unto my heart. | 20 |
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| And like the rushing currents that from the glaciers flow, | |
| And down into the sunny bays their icy waters throw, | |
| So streamed my heavy bass-notes through the forests far and wide, | |
| And Synnövs treble rocked like a feather on the tide. | |
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| My little Synnöv, sang I, thou art good and very fair. | 25 |
| And little Thoralf, sang she, of what you say, beware! | |
| My fairest Synnöv, quoth I, my heart was ever thine, | |
| My homestead and my goodly farm, my herds of lowing kine. | |
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| O Thoralf, dearest Thoralf, if that your meaning be, | |
| If your big heart can hold such a little thing as me, | 30 |
| Then I shall truly tell you if eer I want a man, | |
| And you are free to catch me, handsome Thoralfif you can! | |
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| And down the hillside ran she, where the tangled thicket weaves | |
| A closely latticed bower with its intertwining leaves, | |
| And through the copse she bounded, light-footed as a hare, | 35 |
| And with her merry laughter rang the forest far and near. | |
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| Whenever I beheld little Synnö;v, all that year, | |
| She fled from my sight as from hunters shaft the deer; | |
| I lay awake full half the nights and knew not what to do, | |
| For I loved the little Synnö;v so tenderly and true. | 40 |
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| Then twas a summer even up in the birchen glen, | |
| I sat listening to the cuckoo and the twitter of the wren, | |
| When suddenly above me rang out a silver voice; | |
| It rose above the twittering birds and oer the rivers noise. | |
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| There sat my little maid, where the rocks had made a seat; | 45 |
| And tiny crimson flowers grew all around her feet, | |
| And on her yellow locks clung a tiny roguish hood; | |
| Its edge was made of swans-down, but the cloth was red as blood. | |
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| And noiselessly behind her I had stolen through the copse. | |
| I cursed the restless birch-trees for rustling in their tops; | 50 |
| How merrily my heart beat! And forth I leapt in haste, | |
| And flung a slender birch-bough around the maidens waist. | |
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| She blushed and she fluttered,then turned away to run, | |
| But straight into my sturdy arms I caught the little one. | |
| I put her gently down on the heather at my side, | 55 |
| Where tiny crimson flowers the rocky ledges hide. | |
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| And as the prisoned birdling, when he knows his cage full well, | |
| Pours forth his notes full blithely, and naught his mirth can quell, | |
| So little Synnö;v, striving in vain my hold to flee, | |
| Turned quick on me her roguish eyes and laughed full heartily. | 60 |
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| My little Synnöv, said I, if I remember right, | |
| T was something that you promised me a year ago to-night. | |
| Then straight she stayed her laughter and serious she grew, | |
| And whispered, Dearest Thoralf, you promised something too. | |
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