From bondage free,
Like opening buds
Unfolds to thee.

Forcing thy way
Over the towers,
Mid roofs, through tree tops,
Among green bowers,

Caressing me gently
Powerful one!
Folding me closely
Beneficent Sun!

Few earthly joys
Have fallen to me,
All I possess
Are given by thee;

Refreshing fruit
Thou dost bestow,
And strengthening bread
As white as snow;

Another gift
The maiden fair,
With rosy cheeks
And golden hair--

Thou mak'st her bloom,
Child of the sun,
A joy and blessing
To me alone,

To this frail form
A halo lend,
Till she draws near
On me to tend.

Of her bereft,
Hopeless I sigh,
Nothing remains
Only to die,

So that thine eye
Alone may keep,
Watch over my grave,
And dreamless sleep.--

The sheet on which these verses were written, lay on Balder's knees.
Soon after Edwin left him, he had seated himself at the window in the
sunlight, and began his holiday by taking a sheet of paper and pouring
forth the feelings that filled his soul. We know that he was never
happier than when his heart of its own accord began to sing, and his
hand could scarcely write fast enough to seize the melodies he heard.

But to-day he was particularly happy. His unusual capacity for finding
pleasure in everything, even the smallest trifle, seemed heightened by
the joy of convalescence. He gazed through the closed window a long
time at the white cat, that lay on the sill blinking sleepily, sunning
itself, and pretending not to see the sparrows that ventured close up
to it. A small white cloud was drifti