Author Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson The first fond meeting holy Is like the woodbirds' trilling, Is like a sea-song thrilling, When red the sun sinks slowly,- Is like a horn on mountain, That wakes time's sleep thereunder And summons to life's fountain To meet in nature's wonder. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments