Göteborgs Handels- och Sjöfartstidning – 17 januari 1868, sida 3

That homage, joy, and revelry, And all that youth and hope Ppossessed In that land—then so blessed— 18 if by magic wand, to her S umission pielded. Nov look at her again; good God! What change! Seven long and veary years Have slowly coursed their measured ranges Each season ripe with toil and fears, — While Nature in her destiny Each year, as if in blasphemy Of Heavenes order, furnished offspring From Wilhelminats heart: Lovees offerings, thus set apart To want -to pestilence and famine! Those seven years of fruitless toil, Those seven years of blasted soil, Those seven years, when sun and moon And stars and seasons had no boon In store for man! These humbled Wilhelminaes pride; She was the fairest Swedish bride And loving mother: But want, starvation foul, Struck horror to her soul, As child by child was laid in slumbers Of death, for want of Bread! From her deserted home Behold her now, in crazied tread Upon the trail alone— Secking some one to take, and nurse and save Her la t, her sucking babe. For her there is no hope, N Unless you hear that voice of God, which calls From Norrland, near to Bothnia, On Baltics frozen strand, Which shouts from Scandinavias Land, Across the broad Atlantic— For Bread! Newyork, November 21, 1867. FR — J. D. R.