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| The Danish composer C.E.F. Weyse |
Hans trætte Støv er bragt til Gravens Ro,
Hans trætte Støv er bragt til Gravens Ro
Hans stærke Aand i Kraft end meer ophøiet! –
Hans stod i Verden ensom jo,
Og ensom lukked’ han I Døden Øiet!
Alene var han: naar da Hjertet leed,
Med Melodier Smerten han indhulled’.
I Toner staaer hans Ungdoms Kjærlighed,
Den lyder i: ”de klare Bølger rulled!”
Han sad ved Orglet, og en egen Magt
Da løftede vor Tanke højt fra Jorden;
En skat af Sange har han Folket bragt,
I Toner udtalt Aandens Dyb i Norden!
Hans Tale var et Væld, så sundt og rigt,
Hans Sjæl var ung -- nu har den Himlens Glæde!
Ak, død er Weyse! -Hvilket Sørge-Digt
Har kraft som disse Ord, -- og dybt vi græde.
In grave’s embrace his weary dust lies furled,
His spirit’s strength, though, higher than before!
He was a lonesome figure in the world,
And when in death he closed his eyes yet more!
He was alone: when woes plagued heart and mind,
With melodies he sought to ease the pain.
His youthful love in music is enshrined,
As in: ‘The clear waves rolled…,’ where it’s quite plain.
His organ playing had an inborn force
That high above the earth our thoughts could raise;
A treasure trove of songs to us he brought,
Revealed the Northern spirit in each phrase!
A wealth of words he spoke, so rich and free,
His soul was young – may heaven’s joy he reap!
Ah, Weyse is no more – What elegy
Can match these words – and we now deeply weep.
* the reference is to a poem by Adam Oehlenschläger
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