Red Vanguard - Is it not Divine? Lyrics

Ulla! my Ulla! say, may I invite
The reddest strawberries in milk and wine?
Or from the pond a roach so spright,
Or from the spring a water fine?
Doors by the wind are opened wide,
Flowers and fir branches sweet scent provide;
Drizzling skies the sun foretell,
As thou dost see
Doors by the wind are opened wide,
Flowers and fir branches sweet scent provide;
Drizzling skies the sun foretell,
As thou dost see

Is it not divine, the Fisher's Cot? What?
Divine to behold!
See the proud trunks standing row by row,
With fresh leaves!
And the calm bay
That spreads out? - Ah yes!
And far off between the ditches
The fields!
Is it not divine? - These meadows?
Divine! Divine!

Cheers and good midday in the window, my fair!
Hear how the bells ring from town.
And see how the dust does obscure the green
Between coaches and carriages on the ground.
Hand me from the window where thou dost see me stay,
Sleepy in the saddle, my Cousin;
First a biscuit, second a jug
Of Hogland's wine.
Hand me from the window where thou dost see me stay,
Sleepy in the saddle, my Cousin;
First a biscuit, second a jug
Of Hogland's wine.

Is it not divine, the Fisher's Cot? What?
Divine to behold!
See the proud trunks standing row by row,
With fresh leaves!
And the calm bay
That spreads out? - Ah yes!
And far off between the ditches
The fields!
Is it not divine? - These meadows?
Divine! Divine!

Now the stallion is led to the stall, my Ulla,
Neighing, stamping, in a gallop.
Still at the stable door its eyes do roll
Proudly up to the window, just to thee
Thou dost set all nature ablaze with flame
With thine eyes' warm display.
Clang! down by the gate, in the warmest cheer.
Clang to thy health!
Thou dost set all nature ablaze with flame
With thine eyes' warm display
Clang! down by the gate, in the warmest cheer
Clang to thy health!

Is it not divine, the Fisher's Cot? What?
Divine to behold!
See the proud trunks standing row by row,
With fresh leaves!
And the calm bay
That spreads out? - Ah yes!
And far off between the ditches
The fields!
Is it not divine? - These meadows?
Divine! Divine!

Is it not divine, the Fisher's Cot? What?
Divine to behold!
See the proud trunks standing row by row,
With fresh leaves!
And the calm bay
That spreads out? - Ah yes!
And far off between the ditches
The fields!
Is it not divine? - These meadows?
Divine! Divine!