Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/126



Great memories bear the seed of growth.

Yes, memories that to life are bound; But you, of memory's empty mound, Have made a stalking-horse for sloth.

I said at first, and still I say:— To leave us were the wisest way. Your work here cannot come to good, Nor your ideas be understood. The little flights to purer air, The lifting-up which, now and then, Is doubtless well for working men, Shall be my unremitting care. Many agreeable facts declare My ceaseless energy as mayor,— Through me the population's grown Double, nay, almost three to one, Since for the district I have bred Ever new ways of getting fed. With stubborn nature still at strife We've steam'd ahead: our forward march Here hew'd a road, there flung an arch— To lead from

Not from Faith to Life.

To lead from fjordside to the hill.

But not from Doctrine unto Will.