For Norway, Freedom’s fatherland,
Fill up the wine‐cup flowing,
And pledge it, brothers, hand in hand,
To keep the hot blood glowing.

By gyves and fetters rent we swear,
No tyrant’s hand shall ever dare
To chain our souls, while swords we bear
To guard old Norway’s Freedom!

Again the wine‐cup passes round;
We’ll drain it to the glory
Of all the Chiefs and names renowned
In Norway’s ancient story.
Across our gloomy northern night
Their clashing arms flashed the light,
And won for us, in hero fight,
The prize of Norway’s Freedom.

And now to all the brave ones here,
And to the maids that love us
To men who never knew a fear,
Maids pure as saints above us.
The Norway maidens! fill on high
The Norsemen, brave to do and die!
And shame to him who passes by
The pledge to Love and Freedom!

And yet one cup to Norway’s land,
Her snow and icy fountains,
The rocks that guard her stormy strand,
The pines upon her mountains!
Aye—three times three fill up the wine,
Pledge mountain, torrent, rock, and pine
Pledge all that marks the snowy line
Where Norsemen guard their Freedom!