Not only England, France, and
Germany hastened to appropriate it, but even in Spain, Greece, and
Russia tears were shed over "Ingeborg's Lament," and tender bosoms
palpitated with sympathy for Frithjof's sorrows. I know a dozen English
translations of "Frithjof's Saga" (a friend of mine, who is a
bibliophile, assures me that the exact number is at present twenty-one),
and of German versions the number is not very much less. A Norwegian (or
rather Danish) rendering was presented to me on my twelfth birthday; and
the sentiment which then most forcibly appealed to me was, as I vividly
remember, embodied in the following verse, in which Bjoern chides his
friend's grief for the loss of his beloved:
"Frithjof, 'tis time for your folly's abating;
Sigh and lament for a woman's loss:
Earth is, alas, too full of such dross;
One may be lost, still a thousand are waiting.
Say but the word, of such goods I will bring
Quickly a cargo--the Southland can spare them,
Bed as the rose, mild as lambs in the spring;
Then we'll cast lots, or as brothers we'll share them.
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