Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/259

 That the pastor's homily turned upon,— Is full, in its essence, of edification.

[Looks down upon the grave.

Was it he, I wonder, that hacked through his knuckle That day I was out hewing logs in the forest? Who knows? If I weren't standing here with my staff By the side of the grave of this kinsman in spirit, I could almost believe it was I that slept, And heard in a vision my panegyric.— It's a seemly and Christianlike custom indeed This casting a so-called memorial glance In charity over the life that is ended. I shouldn't at all mind accepting my verdict At the hands of this excellent parish priest. Ah well, I dare say I have some time left Ere the gravedigger comes to invite me to stay with him;— And as Scripture has it: What's best is best,— And: Enough for the day is the evil thereof,— And further: Discount not thy funeral.— Ah, the Church, after all, is the true consoler. I've hitherto scarcely appreciated it;— But now I feel clearly how blessëd it is To be well assured upon sound authority: Even as thou sowest thou shalt one day reap.— One must be oneself; for oneself and one's own One must do one's best, both in great and in small things. If the luck goes against you, at least you've the honour Of a life carried through in accordance with principle.—