Give us, God, to Thee now turning, <br />Fullness of joy, tears full and burning, <br />Of will the full refining fire! <br />Hear our prayer o'er his inurning: <br />His will was <br />one <br />, the whole discerning, <br />His whole soul would to it aspire. <br />Yes; give us yet again, <br />With power to lead, great men,- <br />Power in counsel our folk to lead, <br />Our folk in deed, <br />Our folk in gladness and in need! <br /> <br />Thou, O God, our want preventest; <br />To raise the temple <br />him <br />Thou lentest, <br />A spirit bright and pure and great. <br />When Thou from time to call him meantest, <br />Her tender soul to him Thou sentest <br />Who went before to heaven's gate. <br />When Thou didst set him free, <br />An epoch ceased to be. <br />Men then marveled, the while they said: <br />'Living and dead, <br />O'er all our land he beauty spread.' <br /> <br />Help us, God, to wiser waring, <br />When to our land Thou light art bearing, <br />That we Thy dayspring then may know. <br />God, our future Thou'rt preparing, <br />Oh, give us longing, honor's daring, <br />That we the great may not forego! <br />Thou sentest many out,- <br />Cease not, our God, nor doubt! <br />Let us follow Thy way, Thy call, <br />Men, words, and all! <br />Thy mercies shall our North enwall!<br /><br />Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/anton-martin-schweigaard-in-the-church-after-the-funeral-oration/
