Shield from suffering, father, brother, husband,
All are lost in him at once unto thee!
All are taken; nought to thee remaineth!"

At these words bursts forth the people's sorrow;
None was there but wept, or man or woman.
In the maiden's eye, too, tears were standing,
As the slain youth's hand she took, thus speaking;
"More than tears thy memory must honour.
Not like those who die and are forgotten
Shalt thou be; the mourning of thy country
Shall be as the dew of summer evenings,
Poet-inspiration, full of gladness;
Full of hope for the approaching morrow!"

Long as the foregoing poem is, we must
give yet another sketch or two of a different
character, though in the same style of
versification. Here is one which presents a
terrible picture of the fierce combat which
the Finland peasant encounters with nature,
but shows at the same time his indomitable
and God-fearing character.

THE PEASANT PAVO.

Mid the high bleak Moors of Saarijärvis,
On a sterile farm, dwelt Peasant Pavo,
And its poor soil tilled with care untiring,
Trusting to the Lord to send the increase.
Here he lived with wife and little children,
With them of his sweat-earned bread partaking.
Dikes he dug, and ploughed his land, and sowed it.
Spring time came, and now the melting snow-drifts
Drenched the fields, and half the young crop perished:
Summer came, and the descending hail-storms
Dashed the early ears down, half destroying:
Autumn came, and frost the remnant blasted.

    Pavo's wife she tore her hair exclaiming:
"Pavo, Pavo, man the most unhappy,
Take thy staff, by God we are forsaken;
Hard it is to beg, to starve is harder!"
    Pavo took her hand, and thus he answered:
"God doth try his servant, not forsake him.
Bread made half of bark must now suffice us!
I will dig the dikes of twofold deepness,
But from God will I await the increase."
    She made bread of corn and bark together;
He dug lower dikes with double labour.
Sold his sheep, and purchased rye and sowed it.
Spring time came; again the melting snow-drifts
Drenched the fields, and half the young crop perished:
Summer came, and the descending hail-storms
Dashed the early ears down, half destroying:
Autumn came, and frosts the remnant blighted.
    Pavo's wife, she smote her breast, exclaiming:
" Pavo, Pavo, man the most unhappy,
Let us die, for God hath us forsaken!
Hard it is to die, to live is harder!"

    Pavo took her hand, and thus made answer:
"God doth try his servant, not forsake him;
Bread made half of bark must still suffice us.
I will dig the dikes of three-fold deepness,
But from Heaven will still expect the increase!"
    She made bread of corn and bark together;
He dug lower dikes with three-fold labour,
Sold his cattle, purchased rye, and sowed it.
Spring time came, but now the melting snow-drifts
Left the young crops in the fields uninjured:
Summer came, but the descending hail-storms
Dashed not down the rich ears, nought destroying:
Autumn came, and saw, by frost unblighted,
Wave the golden harvest for the reaper.
    Then fell Pavo on his knees, thus speaking:
"God hath only tried us, not forsaken!"
    On her knees his wife fell, and thus said she:
"God hath only tried us, not forsaken!"
    Then exulting spake unto her husband:
"Pavo, Pavo, take with joy the sickle;
We may now make glad our hearts with plenty,
Now may cast away the bark unsavoury,
Now may bake sweet bread of rye-meal only!"
    Pavo took her hand, and thus made answer:
"Woman, woman, 'tis but sent to try us;
So we may have pity on the sufferer.
Mix then bark with corn even as aforetime;
Frosts have killed the harvests of our neighbour."

The following, which shall be the last of
these graphic pictures of a strong life, is
singularly fresh and beautiful.

OJAN PAVO'S CHALLENGE.

Came from Tavastland tall Ojan Pavo,
Tall and vigorous 'mong the sons of Finland,
Stedfast as a mountain clothed with pinewood,
Bold and fleet and powerful as a tempest.
He could from the earth uproot the fir-tree;
Could the bear encounter single-handed ;
Lift a horse above the loftiest fences,
And, as straw, compel strong men to bow down.
Now he stood, the stedfast Ojan Pavo,
Proud and vigorous at the nation's council.
In the court he stood among the people,
Like a lofty fir-tree amid brushwood,
And he raised his voice and thus addressed them:
    " If there be a man here born of woman
Who can, from the spot whereon I plant me,
Move me only for a single moment,
I to him will yield my farm so wealthy;
He shall win from me my silver treasure;
Of my numerous flocks he shall be master;
His I will become both soul and body."
    To the people thus spoke Ojan Pavo.
But the country youth shrank back in terror;
To the proud man answered only silence;
None was found who would accept his challenge.

But with love and admiration gazed they,
All the maidens, on that youthful champion,
Standing there—the powerful Ojan Pavo
Like a lofty fir-tree among brushwood,
His eyes flashing like the stars of heaven,
And his open forehead clear as daylight,
And his thick locks flowing to his shoulders,
Like a streamlet falling down in sunshine.

From the throng of women forth stepped Anna,
She the fairest of that country's maidens.
Lovely as the morning at its rising.
Forth she stepped in haste to Ojan Pavo,
Round his neck she flung her arms so tender,
Laid her throbbing heart against his bosom,
Pressed against his cheek her cheek so rosy.
Then she bade him break the bonds that held him.
But the youth stood moveless, and was vanquished.
    Yielding, thus he spoke unto the maiden:
Anna, Anna, I have lost my wager;
Thou must take from me my farm so wealthy;