“View of Laerdalsaren on the Sognefiord” by Themistokles von Eckenbrecher (1842-1921)

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Gone were but the Winter,
Come were but the Spring,
I would go to a covert
Where the birds sing;

Where in the whitethorn
Singeth a thrush,
And a robin sings
In the holly-bush.

Full of fresh scents
Are the budding boughs
Arching high over
A cool greenhouse;

Full of sweet scents
And whispering air
Which sayeth softly:
“We spread no snare;

“Here dwell in safety,
Here dwell alone,
With a clear stream
And a mossy stone.

“Here the sun shineth
Most shadily;
Here is heard an echo
Of the far sea,
Though far off it be.” (Christina Georgina Rossetti 1830-1894)

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“Spring in Norway” is the title of this slide show. The music is “Spring” by Edvard Grieg (1843-1907) played by the Oslo Camerata.





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And Spring arose on the garden fair,
Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;
And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast
Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest. (Percy Bysshe Shelley 1792-1822)

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