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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=351358" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Hamar-Made Matches</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Here your Hamar-made matches!'-<br>Of them these verses I sang;<br>A thought to which humor attaches,<br>But yet to my heart sparks sprang.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sparks from the box-side flying<br>Sank deep in my memory,<br>Till in a light undying<br>Two eyes cast their spell on me,-</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Light on the fire that's present,<br>When faith blazes forth in deed.<br>Know, that to every peasant<br>Those eyes sent a light in need.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sent to souls without measure<br>The flame of love's message broad,<br>Gathering in one treasure<br>Fatherland, home, and God.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">For it was Herman Anker<br>Took of his fathers' gold,<br>Loaned it as wisdom's banker,<br>Spread riches of thought untold,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Scattered it wide as living<br>Seed for the soil to enwrap;<br>Flowers spring from his giving<br>Over all Norway's lap.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Flowers spring forth, though stony<br>The ground where it fell, and cold.<br>Never did patrimony<br>Bear fruitage so many fold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Heed this, Norwegian peasant,<br>Heed it, you townsman, too!<br>That fruit of love's seed may be present,<br>Our thanks must fall fresh as dew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Here your Hamar-made matches!'<br>My thanks kindle fast. And oh!<br>This song at your heart-strings catches,<br>That kindling your thanks may glow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The matches hold them in hiding,-<br>Scratching one you will find<br>The light with a warmth abiding<br>Carries them to his mind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Here your Hamar-made matches!'<br>Only to strike one here,<br>Our thanks far-away dispatches,<br>With peace his fair home to cheer.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His matches in thousands of houses,<br>In great and in small as well!-<br>The light that thanksgiving arouses<br>Shall scatter the darkness fell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His matches in thousands of houses!-<br>Some eve from his factory<br>He'll see how thanksgiving arouses<br>The land, and its love flames free.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He'll see in the eyes so tender,<br>Through gleams that his matches woke,<br>The thanks that his nation would render,<br>His glistening wreath of oak,-</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He'll feel that Norway with double<br>The warmth of other lands glows;<br>The harvest must more be than trouble,<br>When faith in its future grows.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Here your Hamar-made matches!'<br>No phosphorus-poison more!<br>The bearer of light up-catches<br>The work of the school before:-</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From home all the poison taking,<br>Hastening the light's advance,<br>Longings to warm light waking,<br>That lay there and had no chance.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Bj%C3%B8rnstjerne+Bj%C3%B8rnson">Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=351358" data-title="Hamar-Made Matches de Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson" data-description="'Here your Hamar-made matches!'-
Of them these verses I sang;
A thought to which humor attaches,
But yet to my heart sparks sprang.

Sparks from the box-side flying
Sank deep in my memory,
Till in a light undying
Two eyes cast their spell on me,-
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