THE SONG OF JEPPE

“What!” said the king,

“Is earth a bird or bee?

Can this uncharted boundless realm of ours

Drone thro’ the sky, with leagues of struggling sea,

Forests, and hills, and towns, and palace-towers?”

“Ay,” said the dwarf,

“I have watched from Stiernborg's crown

Her far dark rim uplift against the sky;

But, while earth soars, men say the stars go down;

And, while earth sails, men say the stars go by.”

An elvish tale!

Ask Jeppe, the dwarf! He knows.

That's why his eyes look fey; for, chuckling deep,

Heels over head amongst the stars he goes,

As all men go; but most are sound asleep.

King, saint, sage,

Even those that count it true,

Act as this miracle touched them not at all.

They are borne, undizzied, thro’ the rushing blue,

And build their empires on a sky-tossed ball.

Then said the king,

“If earth so lightly move,

What of my realm? O, what shall now stand sure?”

“Naught,” said the dwarf, “in all this world, but love.

All else is dream-stuff and shall not endure.

‘ Tis nearer now!

Our universe hath no centre,

Our shadowy earth and fleeting heavens no stay,

But that deep inward realm which each can enter,

Even Jeppe, the dwarf, by his own secret way.”

“Where?” said the king,

“O, where? I have not found it!”

“Here,” said the dwarf, and music echoed “here.”

“This infinite circle hath no line to bound it;

Therefore that deep strange centre is everywhere.

Let the earth soar thro’ heaven, that centre abideth;

Or plunge to the pit, His covenant still holds true.

In the heart of a dying bird, the Master hideth;

In the soul of a king,” said the dwarf,

“and in my soul, too.”