Thro' the majestic forest's leafy pride
The murmurs of the recent tempest sigh'd,
The shades of eve were closed, and pattering showers
Shed added gloom o'er midnight's starless hours.
Sleep in his downy car o'er Mora rode,
And soft-winged Silence ruled the calm abode.
Lull'd by the distant gale's unequal sound,
The peasants press their beds, with rushes crown'd,
From daily toil and fear a respite steal,
And dream of joys the waking may not feel.

High blazing on the Danish castle's brow,
The beacon redden'd all the fields below.
From its tall battlements, o'er moat and dell,
Chequering the light, uncertain shadows fell.
On high, the warder tunes his martial song;
The rocks, the dales, the cheerful notes prolong.

On a broad plain the rising structure stands,
The work of Dalecarlia's mountain bands,
In ancient years, ere Margaret ruled the clime,
Majestic still it stands, and unimpair'd by time.
The Western height primeval rocks inclose;
Low-murmuring to the south a river flows:
The rest with towers and tower-like works was crown'd,
And cast a various shadow o'er the ground.
Unnumber'd outworks, lessening by degrees,
Sloped to the plain: wide quivering to the breeze
The Danish standard, on the heights unrolled,