heroic poem from the Anglo-Saxon, published in 1820; a thick volume of "Kvœdlinger eller Smaakvad"—small poems, bearing on its title-page the date of 1815. The greater number of these are on his favourite subject, the fables of the Scandinavian mythology—a subject on which he has enlarged, both in prose and verse, in another work, entitled, "Nordens Mytologi," "The Mythology of the North." The last named is an earlier production than the "Smaakvad," it having appeared in Copenhagen in 1808, and having been written before Grundtvig took orders. In the preface to this work, he assumes much credit to himself for his extensive insight "paa Asalæren," which means, into the knowledge of the gods of the Valhalla; and rather sneers at the many learned men in the North, who knew every blossom in the garden of Arcadia, yet would almost start with surprise at the name of Yggdrasill.[1] That the fables of the Northern mythology are very curious, some interesting, and a few extremely beautiful, must be allowed by all who know anything of them; but they hardly demand such veneration, and so much study, as the Rev. Mr. Grundtvig claims for them. Grundtvig’s poetry is liked by his countrymen, as being peculiarly Northern. There is a good deal of imagery in it, and some feeling, but it wants variety.
Bernhard Severin Ingemann, born 1789, a professor at Soroe, and a contemporary of Grundtvig, is a far more pleasing writer. He also dwells much on the olden times; but it is the real history of his country that he elucidates, and places before his readers in interesting points of view. Ingemann writes everything well; it is impossible that he should do otherwise, with accurate historical knowledge, with a well-stored memory, with inexhaustible treasures of imagination, brilliant fancy, force, and purity of feeling, vast powers of description, poetic taste, and complete command of language. The great Oehlenschlæger has said, in his last volume of poems ("Digte Kunsten"), published in 1849, that,
If thou wouldst seek these mental gifts to know,
Which artists ever on their work bestow—
Hark! In the subject's choice, its scope, indeed,
In its arrangement, 'tis Good-sense we need.
To exorcise those shades from vanished days,
On which, through dim mists of the past, we gaze—
And even living spirits to command.
We and Imagination must go hand in hand.
And that those phantoms which we summon near,
May not as cold and spectral forms appear,
But play like being of this life their parts—
Feeling must lend her aid, and warm their hearts.
And to be sometimes pensive, sometimes gay,
To glean from crowds, and bid them go or stay.
To choose if on your canvas shall be traced
Dark eve, or morning's dawn—these rest with Taste.
- ↑ The ash Yggdrasill—mentioned in the "Voluspa," and prose "Edda," "a high tree, sprinkled with the purest water; it stands ever green over the Urdar fountain." According to Finn Magnusen, this ash Yggdrasill was the symbol of universal nature. Other writers say it was the emblem of human life. Grundtvig has a theory of his own. So that none of the writers on Scandinavian mythology agree as to what this fancied ash-tree was really meant to shadow forth.
