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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/78745-0.txt b/78745-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f857a49 --- /dev/null +++ b/78745-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5293 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78745 *** + + + + + РОССІЙСКАЯ АНТОЛОГІЯ. + + SPECIMENS + OF THE + RUSSIAN POETS, + + WITH + _INTRODUCTORY REMARKS_. + + PART THE SECOND. + + _Вамъ, вамъ плетутъ Хариты + Безамертные вѣнцы! + Я вами здѣсь вкушаю + Восторги Піеридъ, + И въ радости взываю: + О Музы! я Піитъ!_ + БАТЮШКОВЪ + + BY + + JOHN BOWRING, F.L.S. + + AND HONORARY MEMBER OF SEVERAL FOREIGN + SOCIETIES. + + LONDON: + PRINTED FOR G. AND W. B. WHITTAKER, + AVE-MARIA LANE. + + 1823. + + + + + LONDON: + PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS. + + + + + TO + HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY + ALEXANDER, + AUTOCRAT OF ALL THE RUSSIAS, + _&c. &c. &c._ + + +The flattering mark of approbation with which you were pleased to +honour the former volume of the Russian Anthology, induces me to +inscribe the name of your Majesty upon the dedication page of this. + +When the delusions of conquest and the records of political changes +shall have passed away, the purer and nobler triumphs of civilization +and literature will be remembered, and bear along the stream of time, +to the gratitude of future generations, the names of their illustrious +protectors. To have contributed to their influence is a glory which +no time can tarnish--it is worthy of the worthiest--it will be your +highest title--a title brighter than the brightest jewel of your +imperial crown. + +The destiny of millions is in your Majesty’s hands. Under your +auspices, your empire has made gigantic strides in knowledge and in +power. The future is formed by the present. O, be it your most imperial +ambition to make that knowledge and that power the source of virtue and +of liberty! Such are the wishes, and such the hopes, of one to whom +your reputation is dearer than to a thousand flatterers, and who is, in +all sincerity, + + Your Majesty’s most obedient, + And devoted humble servant, + JOHN BOWRING. + + _Boulogne Prison, + Oct. 20, 1822._ + + + + +INTRODUCTION. + + +I am encouraged to commit another volume of ‘Specimens of the Russian +Poets,’ to that opinion which so kindly welcomed, and so favourably +judged the former. I write now, instructed, and I hope benefited, by +the very extensive notice which the first essay obtained; and I may +indulge an honest feeling of complacency and pride in remembering, +that, in almost every instance, candour and generosity characterised +the literary articles to which my experiment gave birth. I avoided, +generally, any criticism on the works for which I requested the patient +judgment of my countrymen. I deemed the object most interesting +to trace the early developement of poetical literature in a nation +bursting into civilization. The spectacle was before me, and its +phenomena left a strong impression on my mind. I was witnessing not +a family, not a tribe, not a feeble community passing from barbarism +to light and knowledge, but a mighty people whose aspirations after +political influence, and whose excitements to foreign conquests, +were among the most striking facts which accompanied their onward +progress. Others, I thought, could not fail to trace the influence of +their early literature upon their future destiny. It was my object to +gather together the mementos which their poets strewed around them as +they moved forward. I have continued my labours, and I believe, that +while philosophy will find much matter for sober thought in these +varied pages, the statesman will do well to study the tendency and the +character of that fountain-head of popular feeling whose waters will +spread over generations of men, and over the widest empire of the world. + +I have said that the intellectual state of a country cannot be judged +of by its productions of literature or of art: and I suspect strange +delusions exist in our minds with regard to the attainments of the mass +of society in those countries which our classical associations hallow +with every thing that is bright and beautiful. America has produced no +Murillo, no Cervantes, no Calderon; yet who would hesitate to rank her +people far above the unenlightened--the brave, the generous, though +unenlightened--inhabitants of the European peninsula? The extreme +depression of the many leads to the extraordinary elevation of the +few, and poetry sits on the very pinnacle of civilization. It may rear +itself like a pyramid, where all around is a waste. So, a land may be +covered with verdure and cultivation, where no column is raised to +commemorate the past--where no pile makes an appeal to the sympathies +of the future--where the generations of men flourish and fade, ‘and +the place that knew them knows them no more.’ The possession of every +object of reasonable desire leaves little scope to the imagination, +which is the child of hopes and fears. Such a land, however, must +necessarily be the abode of freedom, for freedom alone can give that +equality of rights whose influence produces universal happiness. A +real equality of rights, and of security in their possession, will +necessarily bring with them something like an equality of knowledge, +at least of that knowledge which has the most direct influence upon +human felicity. Well understood freedom is that which provides for the +well-being of the great majority of mankind--it is that which leaves +in every individual’s hand the greatest possible sum of political +influence and power which is consistent with the interest of the whole. +Despotism is that which provides for a small minority by the sacrifice +of the mass of society; it is that which arms itself with the greatest +possible sum of authority, and leaves no strength, and will communicate +no intelligence to the people. A strong government--a government too +strong to be influenced by the national will, and which makes no +real appeal to that will, must necessarily be a bad government. That +government is alone wise, and that government is alone legitimate, +which requires and possesses the support of popular opinion, and which +is too weak to oppose, and too honest to wish to oppose, that sanction +by which it was created, and by which it may be destroyed. + +The history of time gone by will afford few facts to assist us in +judging of the tendencies of those marvellous changes which are now +going on in the intellectual world. Truth and knowledge shut up in a +few individual minds, and enlightening only a narrow circle already +half enlightened, had nothing to connect them with the great masses +of society. They were torches which blazed in a chamber, leaving +darkness behind them, till other torches were kindled. Now the light +of instruction is unextinguished--is inextinguishable. It is not +exclusive in its blessings, nor bounded in its journeyings. Its roots +are planted among the poor. They are entering on their heritage, +which cannot be taken from them. The treasure is confided to their +keeping--to the keeping of the many and the strong. + +But though society is obviously tending to a state in which some +of its existing gradations must necessarily be destroyed, in which +the wider repartition of knowledge must inevitably lead to a more +equal distribution of wealth, of political power and of consequent +enjoyment, it must be borne in memory, that the influence of intellect +is incredibly great, and that the master-minds of a nation give a +deep impression to the national character. I have done violence to my +feelings by translating many of the military and warlike productions +of the Russian poets; but they will not be without their use. They +will serve to show how the feelings of hatred and malevolence are +excited; how that love of outrage which is called ‘martial spirit’ +creeps into the bosom of a people, and corrodes all the mild and all +the generous virtues. They will show the arts by which the slumbering +passions are aroused, and how terrible it is to arouse them. Nor will +such compositions excite _our_ sympathy--they are directed against us +as well as others. Our shame and sin are indeed heavier and older than +theirs. Let us never forget, that he who hates another prompts another +to hate him. We cannot keep all the malevolence and all the vengeance +for ourselves; it will return upon us with renewed strength and +redoubled ferocity. The wound may be inflicted for a momentary purpose, +but we leave the weapon there to canker and fester for ever. + +On other grounds their introduction is almost indispensable. They are +a necessary and an important part of the general picture. Among these +compositions, that of Zhukovsky, ‘The Minstrel in the Russian Camp,’ is +perhaps the most popular of modern poetical productions in Russia. + +So much for generalities, which I hope will not be thought misplaced. +And if some regret be felt, that so many of the Russian poets have +followed the example of us, ‘the more enlightened nations,’ in their +admiration of heroes and conquerors, and in their laud of restless and +ruthless ambition, some of them are entitled to a higher and a nobler +praise--they have sung the gentler influences of truth, and knowledge, +and virtue, the progress of civilization, and the spreading happiness +of man. + +A remark has been made and repeated on the subject of the former +volume: ‘These poets have little originality.’ Now something must be +allowed for the extreme difficulty of preserving in translation all +the characteristics of the author. Many phrases cannot be verbally +rendered--many associations cannot be felt. To a Russian _red_ and +_beautiful_ are synonymous; he uses the same word for both. How can the +imagery of his mind be transferred to an English reader? Besides, too +much is expected on the score of originality. Man is every where the +same being, with the same feelings and affections, the same senses, +and nearly the same desires: their modifications are but slightly +varied by circumstances, and the great tablet of nature too has far +less variety than we are wont to deem. Does a Russian see any thing +brighter than the sun, or vaster than the ocean, or more beautiful +than a cloudless night? Is any thing more venerable than his mountains, +or more poetic than his streams? Such are _his_ elements of song--are +they not also ours? The subjects of poetry too are less extensive +while general literature is in its cradle, and their number is still +more limited where the form of government prevents the mind from +attaining its full expansion, and bars out some of the warmest and +sublimest feelings--such as indignation against oppression--and others +of the tenderest--such as sympathy with the oppressed. The intenser +passions of the poet, unable to exercise themselves in the high range +of patriotism, are spent in the songs of love and valour; while his +calmer affections dwell among the daily business of society, recording +the joy of the parent over the new-born infant, the rapture of the +bridegroom, or the plaints that wail the dead. The poetry which is here +presented is the poetry of a highly-imitative, strongly-feeling, but +despotically-governed people, erected upon a magnificent, sonorous, +and flexible language, blending something of the wildness of oriental +character with the sternness and the sobriety of European precision. +That the impress of our literature, and that of our neighbours, is to +be most distinctly traced, is quite certain. Nearly half the poetry +which Russia possesses is translation. Their leading authors have +travelled, and have taken back with them the treasures they found: and +they have done good service. The most obvious resemblance is to the +German school: and to the honour of Germans be it said, that their +influence on the civilization of Russia has been most extensive and +most salutary. Their patient industry, their general intelligence, +their social habits of life, have so interblended them with the Russian +people, working a silent but an effective change, that the whole mass +will become leavened with their long-suffering, their industrious, and +intellectual virtues. The necessary result of an habitual intercourse +with foreign nations--an intercourse established by Peter the Great, +and most wisely encouraged by all his successors, was the introduction +of models which placed the poets of Russia, as to form at least, on +a level with the most cultivated people of the south. Their language +easily lent itself to all the varieties of versification, and without +the gradations of advancing improvement, they adopted a style of +poetical composition which they have found no reason to modify or to +change. + +On the whole, the present volume will possess a character much more +decidedly national than the former. A variety of poems immediately +connected with the earlier history of Russia, and others representing +the peculiar habits of the Russians, are introduced. The national +songs, especially, will, I trust, excite some attention. These are +the poetry of the people. These are the fragments whose authors are +never raised from the darkness of oblivion--these are the joy and +the study of the peasantry, their consolation in the dreariness of +their wintry dwellings, conveyed from tongue to tongue through many +a generation. These are no subjects for criticism, for criticism +cannot reach them--it cannot abstract one voice from the chorus, nor +persuade the village youths and maidens that the measure is false, or +the music is discordant. The forms of versification, though some of +them are rude and irregular, I have endeavoured to preserve, as a part +of their original charm. I have heard them sung in the wooden huts of +the cottagers; and have been cheered by them when the boor has whirled +me in his uncouth sledge over the frozen snow. The rude melody, often +gentle and plaintive, in which they found utterance, still vibrates in +my ear. I ask for them no admiration--they are the delight of millions. +The fame of the Iliad is nothing to theirs! + +I had not seen the _Poetische Erzeugnisse_ of Karl Friedrich von der +Borg, printed at Dorpat in 1819, when the former volume was published. +I confess I was surprised at the almost verbal resemblance of some of +his translations to my own. In this second volume I have been able +to strengthen myself with his opinion as to the selection, and to +avail myself of his most interesting Specimens for my assistance. His +fidelity is admirable. + +This volume was written during my solitary confinement in the prison +of Boulogne: it made days and hours swift and pleasurable, which might +have been most long and wearisome. When my spirit reposed from that +exciting indignation which seemed to exhaust its energies, it was among +the poets of Sclavonia that it lingered. I shall recal this memorable +epoch of my life with gratitude and pride--gratitude to that active +sympathy which my situation awakened, and pride in the recollection, +that in the darkest moment no dejection, far less despondency, had +place in my mind. I could picture, and did picture every thing that +injustice, cruelty, and violence, might assemble for my humiliation +or my destruction. I communed with my conscience, and anticipated the +worst with cheerfulness. Surely there is something in principles which +cannot be shaken by the terrors of life, nor the fears of death. + + J. B. + _Boulogne Prison, + Oct. 25, 1822._ + + + + +TABLE OF CONTENTS. + + +INTRODUCTION v + +Lomonossov 1 + +Derzhavin 15 + +Dmitriev 23 + +Zhukovsky 57 + +Karamsin 117 + +Dolgorukov 133 + +Batiushkov 141 + +Merslakov 159 + +Voeikov 167 + +Muraviev 173 + +Kapnist 185 + +Petrov 189 + +Shatrov 205 + +Væsemsky 213 + +Milonov 221 + +Khovansky 233 + +National Songs 237 + + + + +_RUSSIAN ANTHOLOGY._ + + + + +LOMONOSSOV. + + +ODE. + +FROM JOB. + + O man! whose weakness dares rebel + Against the Almighty’s strength, draw nigh + And listen, for my tongue shall tell + His message from the clouded sky. + Midst rain, and storm, and hail, he spoke, + Around the piercing thunder broke; + At his proud word the clouds disperse, + And thus he shakes the universe: + + ‘Come forth, then, in thy pride and power-- + Come answer me, thou son of earth! + Where wert thou in that distant hour + When first I gave creation birth? + When all the mountain’s heights were rear’d, + When all the heavenly hosts appear’d, + My wisdom and my strength’s display? + Man! let thy towering wisdom say! + + ‘Where wert thou when the stars, new born, + Sprung into light at my command, + And fill’d the bounds of eve and morn, + And sung the intelligence that plann’d + Their course sublime? When first the sun + On wings of glory had begun + His race, and oceans of pure light + Wafted mild Luna through the night. + + ‘Who bid the ascending mountains rise? + Who fix’d the boundary of the sea? + Who, when the waves attack’d the skies, + Confined their furious revelry? + The caverns hid in darkness I + Unveil’d--my breath of majesty + Dispersed the gathering mists--my hand + Divided ocean from the land. + + ‘Say, canst thou bid the morning dawn + At earlier hour than I have given,-- + Or water the rain-thirsty lawn + When I have shut the gates of heaven? + Canst thou a favouring breeze prepare + To waft the anxious mariner; + Or guide this earthly ball--to crush + The vile--and the tumultuous hush? + + ‘Say, hast thou scaled the mountain’s height, + Or sounded ocean’s vast abyss; + Or measured all that infinite + Immensity that o’er thee is? + Or couldst thou ever penetrate + Those clouds so dark, so desolate, + That round death’s midnight-portal dwell? + Or dive into the depth of hell? + + ‘Couldst thou with tempests fill the cloud, + The glory of the sun to hide; + And in yon bright cerulean shroud + The lightning and the watery tide: + With swiftly-gathering fiery flash, + And with the mountain-shaking crash, + Tear earth’s foundations up, and show + What dust is thy poor world below? + + ‘Tell me, thou scrutinizing mind, + Who leads the eagle’s flight sublime? + His pinions are the mighty wind, + His path beyond or earth or time; + Far o’er the sea, on some tall rock, + He looks upon the surge’s shock. + Who could his craving wants supply? + Who gave him that sun-dazzling eye? + + ‘Look at the awful behemoth-- + Read there, vain man! my power’s display: + Go! see him trample, in his wrath, + The thorny forests in his way. + His veins are hard as cables--try + With him thy arm of potency! + His ribs are brass--his giant horn + Puts all thy boastful strength to scorn. + + ‘Go! hook the huge leviathan, + And draw him subject to the shore; + The ocean is his kingdom--man! + His course, the boundless waters o’er: + The scales upon his sides are bright + As silver shields in Luna’s light: + He sees, in mockery, frowning lord! + Thy threatening spear and sharpen’d sword. + + ‘A millstone is his heart--his row + Of teeth like sickles, threat’ning still: + Who shall attack him--hero! who? + He waits the strife with ready will. + He basks him in the sunny beam + On the sharp rock--’tis smooth to him-- + His strong impenetrable mass + Sleeps as it were on sand or grass. + + ‘When he prepares him for the fray, + The ocean like a furnace gleams; + The thundering surges mark his way, + His anger like a caldron steams; + His eyes with burning fury roll, + As in a forge the scarlet coal. + All fly before him--“Who shall stand + Before my frown, when I command?” + + ‘When my high will creation’s plan + And self-supported wisdom drew, + Did I consult thee, feeble man! + To tell me what my hand should do? + Why didst thou not my purpose check, + Thou who wert then an atom speck, + And say, when I was framing thee, + “Why art thou thus creating me?”’ + + Insolent mortal!--bow thy head: + God’s wisdom and God’s goodness trace; + In the safe path He marks thee--tread-- + ’Tis He who fix’d thy earthly place; + And joy and grief alike are given + To lead thee on thy way to heaven: + Then hope and bear--in patience bear-- + And throw on Him thy woe, thy care. + + +MORNING MEDITATIONS. + + O’er the wide earth yon torch of heavenly light + Its splendour spreads, and God’s proud works unveils; + My soul, enraptured at the marvellous sight, + Unwonted peace, and joy, and wonder feels, + And with uplifted thoughts of ecstasy + Exclaims, ‘How great must their Creator be!’ + + O, if a mortal’s power could stretch so high-- + If mortal sight could reach that glorious sun, + And look undazzled at its majesty, + ’Twould seem a fiery ocean burning on + From time’s first birth, whose ever-flaming ray + Could ne’er extinguish’d be by time’s decay. + + There waves of fire ’gainst waves of fire are dashing, + And know no bounds; there hurricanes of flame, + As if in everlasting combat flashing, + Roar with a fury which no time can tame: + There molten mountains boil like ocean-waves, + And rain in burning streams the welkin laves. + + But in Thy presence all is but a spark, + A little spark: that wond’rous orb was lighted + By Thy own hand, the dreary and the dark + Pathway of man to cheer--of man benighted; + To guide the march of seasons in their way, + And place us in a paradise of day. + + Dull night her sceptre sways o’er plains and hills, + O’er the dark forest and the foaming sea; + Thy wond’rous energy all nature fills, + And leads our thoughts, and leads our hopes to Thee. + How great is God! a million tongues repeat, + And million tongues re-echo, ‘God, how great!’ + + But now again the day-star bursts the gloom, + Scattering its sunshine o’er the opening sky; + Thy eye, that pierces even through the tomb, + Has chased the clouds, has bid the vapours fly; + And smiles of light, descending from above, + Bathe all the universe with joy and love. + + +EVENING MEDITATIONS, + +ON SEEING THE AURORA BOREALIS.[1] + + The day retires, the mists of night are spread + Slowly o’er nature, darkening as they rise; + The gloomy clouds are gathering round our head, + And twilight’s latest glimmering gently dies: + The stars awake in heaven’s abyss of blue; + Say, who can count them?--who can sound it?--who? + + Even as a sand in the majestic sea, + A diamond-atom on a hill of snow, + A spark amidst a Hecla’s majesty, + An unseen mote where maddened whirlwinds blow, + Am I midst scenes like these--the mighty thought + O’erwhelms me--I am nought, or less than nought. + + And science tells me that each twinkling star, + That smiles above us, is a peopled sphere, + Or central sun, diffusing light afar; + A link of nature’s chain:--and there, even there + The Godhead shines display’d--in love and light, + Creating wisdom--all-directing might. + + Where are thy secret laws, O nature! where? + In wintry realms thy dazzling torches blaze, + And from thy icebergs streams of glory there + Are pour’d, while other suns their splendent race + In glory run: from frozen seas what ray + Of brightness?--from yon realms of night what day? + + Philosopher, whose penetrating eye + Reads nature’s deepest secrets, open now + This all-inexplicable mystery: + Why do earth’s darkest, coldest regions glow + With lights like these?--O tell us, knowing one, + For thou dost count the stars, and weigh the sun. + + Whence are these varied lamps all lighted round? + Whence all the horizon’s glowing fire?--the heaven + Is splendent as with lightning--but no sound + Of thunder--all as calm as gentlest even; + And winter’s midnight is as bright, as gay, + As the fair noontide of a summer’s day. + + What stores of fire are these, what magazine, + Whence God from grossest darkness light supplies? + What wond’rous fabric which the mountains screen, + Whose bursting flames above those mountains rise; + Where rattling winds disturb the mighty ocean, + And the proud waves roll with eternal motion? + + Vain is the inquiry--all is darkness--doubt: + This earth is one vast mystery to man. + First find the secrets of this planet out, + Then other planets, other systems scan; + Nature is veil’d from thee, presuming clod! + And what canst thou conceive of Nature’s God? + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] This Ode was given in the first volume, but as it ought to +accompany the poem which precedes it, it is now published in another +form. + + + + +DERZHAVIN. + + +TO A NEIGHBOUR. + + For whom these festal luxuries + On Neva’s foaming banks--for whom? + ‘Neath intertwining, shadowing trees, + Where all is flowers, and fruits, and bloom; + Gay Persian tents emboss’d in gold, + And China vases manifold; + And sparkling glass from Austria sent;-- + For whom--for what? O why abuse + Fortune? Why dissipate and lose + Gifts, which at best are only lent? + + The song is heard--the chorus blends + Its louder tones;--’neath pines up-piled + And fruits, the wearied table bends; + And sweets--O silly, spendthrift child! + The senses are all feasted:--Maids + Pour forth the grape-juice--see, it spreads-- + The world contributes: ancient Rhine, + Champagne, and Xeres, mingling come; + And British streams, and streams from home, + And Selzerswave and Moselle wine. + + In a cool grot, whose fountains flow + Round alabaster piles and busts, + Stretch’d on a bed where roses grow, + The slave of thy unholy lusts, + Thou liest: a maiden, bright and fair, + And young, reposes near thee there-- + A nymph with laughter in her eye:-- + She sings--thou sinkest on her breast, + And, strangely wilder’d, thou hast prest + Her hand, in ecstasy of joy. + + Thou sleepest--and thy dreams foretel + An everlasting heaven of bliss: + Its flowery buds around thee swell + With blossoms bright and blest as this. + Thou hast thy treasures, hast thy fields; + For thee Siberia’s bosom yields + Of countless wealth a rich display: + Thee, a proud stream of silver meets:-- + O blessed! whom the morrow greets + As happy as the yesterday. + + O blessed! in life’s vale below, + Who sees unmoved this shifting scene-- + Who, though the mighty storm-winds blow, + But hears their rage, and is serene. + The thunder-clouds may o’er him roar, + The waves may spring the mountains o’er, + Scattering the sand and foam--’tis nought + To him--the torn and scatter’d wood + May leave a desert solitude-- + He sits in calm and quiet thought. + + Ours are but foolish wishes--change, + Change is the meteor we pursue: + When nought is wanting, then we range + And gasp, and grasp at something new. + The time of sorrow comes--thy maid + Betrays thee as she has betray’d + Other admirers--then the song-- + Ay! all this noisy song will cease, + And thou be left to think in peace-- + In sadness----Sorrow’s day is long. + + Look! even now her eyes are darting + Less beams of love, of revelry. + Hark! from yon gathering clouds is starting + A fearful storm--thy ship’s at sea.-- + No! no!--while all seems fair and bright, + O dream not thou of sorrow’s night! + Feast, neighbour, feast--and dance and sing-- + Life’s sun has but a summer’s glow, + And joy is innocent--but know, + ’Tis but that joy which bears no sting. + + +THE SHIPWRECK. + + The silver moon the clouds looks through, + Her beams upon the waters float; + And midst the gathering mist and dew + The mariner has launch’d his boat. + + And in that moonlight’s placid ray + His course across the deep he takes; + The welcoming port before him lay, + And in his bosom joy awakes. + + But oh! he dashes on a rock-- + His voice is choked--his eye is dim; + A moment struggling ’gainst the shock, + And then--the waves o’er-mantle him. + + ’Tis but life’s picture--for the tomb + Drags all things to its desolate cell: + Hope is a flower of morning’s bloom-- + And love and friendship----fare ye well! + + +FRAGMENT. + + The ass that looks upon the stars + Is not less asinine;--the base + And cowardly that boasts of scars, + Or wears a crown, may take the place + Of generous spirits, in the throng + Where usurpation reigns; for men + Confound the worthy with the strong, + Nor weigh pretension’s clamor vain. + + The hollowest vessels sound the loudest, + The richest treasures deepest lie; + Yet piled up wealth, and rank the proudest, + Are but tumultuous vanity. + I am a prince--with princely spirit, + A ruler--if I rule my heart; + A titled heir--if I inherit + Of virtue, wisdom, truth, a part. + + + + +DMITRIEV. + + +JERMAK. + + What vision, history, bring’st thou now + To flit before my wandering eye? + In the dark night, amidst the glow + Of the pale moon, that tremblingly + Shines, Irtish takes its wilder’d way: + It whirls--it wanders--and its spray + Is scatter’d o’er the rugged shore. + Two men are there--pale--bent beneath, + Like shadows from the realm of death. + Their brows are hung their bosoms o’er: + One young--a beard, by age made white, + Reach’d to the other’s waist--they wear + A simple ornament--affright + And terror seem attendants there. + Round their steel helmets many a bird + Flapping its ominous wing is heard, + And spectres rustle in the air: + Their vestments from the wild beasts’ lair + Were brought--their breasts in flint are wrapt, + And with the rime and hoar-frost capt; + A broad knife at their girt was hung; + Beneath them two tympanas lay, + And broken, worm-worn lances: they-- + They were Siberian Shamana[1]. + I listen’d there--and thus they sung: + + OLD MAN. + + Yes! Irtish, rage--thy murmuring roar + Echoes our griefs--the storm that lowers + Is meet--for all our sunshine’s o’er-- + Ah, woe is ours! + + YOUNG MAN. + + Ah! woe is ours, + And fearful is time’s threatening frown! + + OLD MAN. + + Thou whose proud crown, in days of old, + Three different nations[2] shelter’d--known + To history--and by fame enroll’d, + Mother of many lands, and land + Of hoary-headed glory--thou-- + Even thou, Siberia--thou must bow, + Smitten by desolation’s hand. + + YOUNG MAN. + + Thy people are all scatter’d now-- + Scatter’d as the whirlwind drives the sand; + Thy Kutshum[3] is departed too-- + Dead--distant from his father-land. + + OLD MAN. + + Thy Shamana are swept away + Whose fear, whose fame had fill’d the world. + Is it for this my hair is gray, + That century-aged warriors hurl’d + Into the dust--even from their tomb + Call--loudly call on others--Come, + And rouse again Shaitana’s[4] day? + + YOUNG MAN. + + Ye Gods! where was your conqueror then? + + OLD MAN. + + O miserable, mournful doom! + That handful of Muscovia’s men!-- + O had the blasting lightning riven-- + Deluge--or plague--the shame, the stain + Might have been borne--but Jermak!--Heaven! + + YOUNG MAN. + + O curse him now, Siberia’s hills! + Streams, vales, on him your curses be! + Night--starless night--Siberia fills-- + The desolating demon he! + + OLD MAN. + + He came--a torch of fury lighted-- + A frost, that all creation blighted! + Where’er he went his ravaging breath + Brought, like the withering pestilence, death! + And death ruled o’er our land benighted. + + YOUNG MAN. + + The brother of the king he slew. + + OLD MAN. + + With Mehmet Kul[5], Siberia’s pride, + I saw him struggle--and there flew + The whistling barbs on every side. + Kul from its sheathe the sabre drew, + And thus in generous rage he cried: + ‘O mock not, death!--an unstain’d name + With chains--with infamy--or shame!’ + Then rush’d he fiercely on the foe. + O fearful sight!--their sabres flash-- + Their eyes are fire--and blow to blow + Is echoed in the horrid clash:-- + Both swords are shiver’d--and they stand + Unarm’d, with upraised close-clench’d hand. + ’Tis man to man, and breast to breast: + The forest glades the shock repeat, + And the earth shakes beneath their feet, + And their blood flows like rain--the best, + The bravest blood: their big hearts burst-- + Their knees give way--their sinews crack-- + Their flanks are broken--heat, and thirst, + And weariness:--’tis now the first-- + ’Tis now the second faints--th’ attack + Kindles again:--who wins?--Jermāk. + ‘Mine art thou now--from this proud hour + All, all is conquer’d--all is won.’ + + YOUNG MAN. + + Our thread of destiny is spun! + The victor’s desolating power + Has crush’d Siberia--but her sighs-- + Her heavy groans---- + + OLD MAN. + + Will ever rise. + But hear, my son!--At eventide, + In this dark solitude I trod, + And brought my offering to our God; + While sad devotion’s thoughts came o’er me, + A howling north wind by my side + Rush’d, scattering the riven leaves before me; + The hundred-winter oak trees mutter’d + Terrible sounds--the wild goat fled, + Affrighted, from his wonted bed;-- + I fell:--some godlike voice thus utter’d: + ‘Racha[6] no suppliant prayer shall hear + When spreading his avenging token. + Siberia! thou his laws hast broken-- + Take thy reward--his curses bear:-- + Thou the white monarch’s[7] slave shalt be, + And every day-break, every eve, + Shall fetter’d find thee--fetter’d leave; + And Jermak’s fame, and Jermak’s race, + Find an eternal resting-place, + Long as the moon its course shall keep.’ + ’Twas silence--and from heaven’s high doors + A thrice-repeated thunder roars, + Lost--lost in darkness drear and deep. + Oh! woe is ours---- + + YOUNG MAN. + + O woe is ours! + + Then sighing--trembling--then they rose + From the cold rock where lichen grows; + They raise their war-arms from the sand, + And wandering slowly ’long the strand, + The mist conceals them from my eye. + + Thy dust, Jermāk, sleeps still and calm, + But Russia shall erect on high + Thy pyramid, and shall embalm + Thy name with flowers and poetry: + A pile of gold, which thy good spear + Won from Siberia, shall she rear! + What said I, thoughtless one!--what dream + Has passion in its sleep created? + Where is his fane?--the dust of him + Is lost--his grave unconsecrated, + Unknown:--_that_ dust the wild-boars tread; + The savage Ostyaks there chase, + With their wing’d barbs, the timid race + Of fawns o’er the vast desert spread. + But be consoled, thou heir of fame! + The genius of the lyre is come + To sing her matins o’er thy tomb; + And many an angel guards thy name + While seated on thy ruins:--verse + Shall thus her sweetest strains rehearse; + + ‘Great One! who in the hoary time + Wast born--and victory led thee on-- + Death stopp’d thee in thy course sublime, + And now thy very dust is gone. + Though thy forefathers sought their food + In the rude plain and wilder’d wood; + Though savage wolves escorted thee, + And fame ne’er spread thy feats abroad, + Yet still thy glory’s majesty + Endures--and thou art half a God. + From age to age--above decay, + Till lasting night time’s day shall close; + Till the proud heavens shall pass away, + And Time upon his scythe repose[8].’ + + +MOSKVA RESCUED. + + Receive the minstrel wanderer + Within thy glades, thou shadowy wood! + No idle tone of joy be here; + Nor let even Venus’ song intrude! + Fair Moskva’s smile my vision fills-- + Her fields, her waters,--towering high, + And, seated on her throne of hills, + A glorious pile of days gone by. + + O Moskva, many a nation’s mother, + How bright thy glances beam on me! + Where, like to thee--where stands another-- + Where, Russia’s daughter, like to thee! + As pearls thy thousand crowns appear, + Thy hands a diamond sceptre hold; + Thy domes, thy steeples bright and clear, + Like sunny rays on eastern gold. + The treasures of the orient meet + Those of the west: through every street + A stream of wealth and luxury flows. + Thy sons are natural heirs of fame, + Courage and glory shrine their name; + Thy daughters--lovely as the rose. + + But war has spread its terrors o’er thee, + And thou wert once in ashes laid; + Thy throne seem’d tottering then before thee, + Thy sceptre feeble as thy blade. + Sarmatian fraud and force, o’er-raging + The humbled world, have reach’d thy gate; + Thy faith with flattering smiles engaging, + Now threatening daggers on thee wait-- + And they were drawn--thy temples sank-- + Thy virgins led with fetter clank-- + Thy sons’ blood streaming to the skies-- + ‘Spirit of vengeance! now arise. + Save me, thou guardian angel!--save!’ + So criedst thou in thy agony. + Thy streets are silent as the grave-- + The unsheath’d sword--it hangs o’er thee. + + And where is Russia’s saviour--where?-- + Stand up--arouse thee--in thy might! + Moskva alarm’d--surrounded there + And clouded, as a winter’s night. + Look!--she awakes--she knows no fear, + And young and old, and prince and slave;-- + Their daggers flash like boreal light; + They crowd--they crowd them to the fight. + But who is that with snowy hair-- + The first--that stern old man--the tide + Of heroes he leads onward there! + Pozharsky--Russia’s strength and pride! + What transport tunes my lyre!--my lays + Seem glowing with celestial fire: + O! I will sing that old man’s praise; + Shout loudly now, thou heavenly choir! + I hear--I hear the armour’s sound: + The dust-clouds round the pillars rise-- + See! Russia’s children gather round. + + Pozharsky o’er the city flies, + And from death’s stillness he awakes + The very life of valour.--Lo! + Midst the star’s light, and sunny glow, + He forms the firm courageous row. + Here--there: hope, joy, again appear: + The burghers gather round him there, + And range them for the combat now. + + ‘And why this crowd?’ a warrior calls + From a high pinnacle[9]--he saw-- + His senses whelm’d in fear and awe-- + He fled from Kremlin’s royal walls. + ‘Sarmatians! to your swords!’ he said; + ‘Delay not, for we are betray’d: + ‘I saw the gathering enemy + ‘Stretch’d like a waking snake along: + ‘They gain the city rapidly-- + ‘The fields are cover’d with the throng.’ + ’Tis bustle all--’tis all dismay; + What crowds of soldiers fill each street! + Round walls and gates their cohorts meet, + And like a whirlwind urge their way + To where Sclavonian thunders roar! + + And see! how bright the heaven is glowing!-- + What smoke--what flame--what blood is flowing! + Sword echoes sword the wide plain o’er; + Whole ranks are harvested that stood + Like the firm oak trees of the wood: + The bullets o’er the field are flying-- + Here sleep the dead, there shriek the dying: + There, staggering ’neath a lance’s wound, + A wild-horse madly stamps the ground, + Flies--falls--and covers, as he dies, + The turf on which his rider lies: + Still the storm struggles in the air, + And agony is every where. + + Death is the conqueror!--death--despair! + They rule o’er village, field, and grove: + A wounded maiden tears her hair, + A hoary sire just looks above, + Then to the ground--and sleeps serenely. + Come, moralist! and study here: + See that poor orphan, suffering keenly,-- + His star is sunk; the starting tear + That falls for those whose blood was spilt-- + For others’ interests, others’ guilt, + Trembles upon his cheeks; the fate + Of war hath left him friendless--best + Were it for him to join the rest, + Nor live thus drear and desolate. + + And thrice the day hath seen the strife, + And thrice hath dawn’d Aurora blithe; + The battle-demon sports with life, + Death waves untired his murderous scythe. + Pozharsky’s thunder still is heard; + He speeds him like the eagle-bird + Following his prey--destroying--crushing,-- + Then on the Poles with fury rushing, + He scatters them like flying sands,-- + That giant of the hundred hands. + On! On!--What transports of delight! + ‘Hurrah! Pozharsky wins the fight!’ + The city joins the ecstasy-- + ‘O yes! our Moskva now is free!’ + + O memorable morning’s ray! + O ne’er to be forgotten day, + What painter’s pencil shall portray thee, + And in thy natural joy array thee, + And tell each bosom’s rapture then! + Millions in wild delight!--they crowd + Upon the bulwarks, shouting loud:-- + The very roofs are made of men. + What flower-wreathes o’er the streets they flung, + What triumph-songs the churches sung; + How high, how bright the banners hung, + And palms crown’d every citizen! + + Where is the hero?--where is he + Who led our sons to victory? + List to that cry of eloquence-- + ‘What--what shall be his recompense?’ + Look!--He who made the invaders bleed, + And Moskva and his country freed, + He--modest as courageous--he + Takes the bright garland from his brow, + And to a youth he bends him now-- + He bends his old and hero-knee. + ‘Thou art of royal blood,’ he said, + ‘Thy father is in foemen’s hand; + ‘Wear thou that garland on thy head, + ‘And bless, O bless our father-land!’ + + Valiant old hero! Russia’s pride, + And Russia’s love,--I bless thee now. + By the gigantic mountain’s side + May everlasting waters flow; + May marshes turn to groves and woods; + Out of our wastes may gardens grow; + And in our barren solitudes + May cities flourish--and decay: + While generations pass away, + And brighter lights disperse their ray; + Yet thou shalt be the poet’s charm, + And thou shalt be the warrior’s glory, + Through never-ending time to warm + The bosom with thy patriot story. + + +TO THE VOLGA. + + Now furl your sails--and heaven be blest! + For we have reach’d the promised land: + And, Volga, thou whose wavy breast + Has brought us to this smiling strand-- + Volga!--the king of waters--named + The great, the proud, the glorious--famed + In history--now farewell! ’Twas thou + Who listenedst to the poet’s song + Ere mingled with earth’s busy throng: + To thee his Muse was wont to bow. + + And all my hopes have now been crown’d, + And every joy has been fulfill’d, + Which, when my childish thoughts look’d round, + Some fond aspiring dream instill’d. + When towards thy banks I stretch’d my eye, + Peopled thy shores with industry, + Spread on thy waves the silver sail!-- + The dream is realised--I view + The picture which my fancy drew-- + Vision of promised brightness--hail! + + I held sweet converse with thy winds, + I heard thy waves, thy tempests roar; + I read each threatening cloud that binds + The soul in fear, and shakes the shore. + As from a tower I look’d, the height + Of granite mountains dimm’d my sight; + And lost, and wondering as I view’d, + I ask’d--Who saw the days of yore? + Proud cities rise her borders o’er, + Where ’twas a desert’s solitude! + + Here, meadows, villages, and herds, + And smiling cottages are placed; + There, flowers and furze, and savage birds, + Are the sole tenants of the waste, + And nought seems wanting to my sight. + I hear--I hear the gay delight + Of dancing nymphs midst yonder trees; + They fill the air with melody, + While, from his gloomy cavity, + The savage boar their revelling sees. + + The sailor, as he skims thy wave, + Gathers the listening crew around, + And pointing to a crumbling grave, + Says, ‘Rasin there his dwelling found.’ + But pensive silence checks his tongue, + The damp sweat on his brow is hung, + His finger trembles, frozen by cold; + For o’er his thoughts there rush a throng + Of the wild images which song + Hath gather’d from the mists of old. + + Yes! midst the ruins time hath pil’d, + There strides upon thy waves the wan + And awful form of John the Wild, + The terrible of Astrachan. + I see his hordes, in rude affright, + Raining, from yonder vineyard’s height, + Their arrow streams upon the Russ-- + The Russ--who hurries to the fray + And conquers--see those hordes obey, + And, trembling, yield their land to _us_. + + I heard the Caspian oracle + Speak in a voice of thunder--‘See! + ‘Persians! your fate how terrible: + ‘He comes--the lord of victory! + ‘A thousand bolts his hand sends forth, + ‘He rules the south, he guides the north, + ‘The crescent and the lion flee! + ‘Hark! for he comes--their future king + ‘The subject waves of Volga bring, + ‘Derbent! thy lord of victory.’ + + So spake the sea-god--and his tears + Fell from his watery eyes like rain; + The waves roll’d round the man of years, + He plunged him in the waves again. + But, Volga, brighter triumphs thou + Wreath’st in thy glory-garland now, + And fairer palms of victory wave; + The Caspian trembles at thy feet, + The Sound, the Belt, thy trophies greet, + And all the ocean is thy slave. + + And shalt thou not be sung, bright river? + And like thy blessings be thy praise; + Shall music’s voice be dead for ever, + Nor to thy fame one anthem raise? + O would the god of song inspire, + Ganges ne’er heard so loud a lyre + As I would tune, sweet stream, for thee! + Euphrates and old father Nile, + Before thy glory should be vile, + And earth resound thy majesty! + + +ENJOYMENT. + +_Naslazhdenie._ + + Let each his wayward will pursue, + I envy not the laurel bough:-- + I’ll have the myrtle drench’d in dew, + Which thou hast smiled on--maiden, thou! + + I’ve seen the hero seek the fray, + I’ve seen the sage illume the world; + What then? They sparkled through their day, + And were to death’s oblivion hurl’d! + + And whether roses o’er them bloom’d, + Or nettle weeds oppress’d the ground; + They were in silence’ breast entomb’d, + Nor heeded all that pass’d around. + + Then grief begone--and welcome joy! + And three times welcome, love’s sweet bliss! + For as our days like arrows fly, + How precious every moment is! + + Perchance e’en now the mandate’s given + To call the hurrying pilgrim home; + Perchance the azure arch of heaven + Now hears the summons--‘Mortal--come!’ + + O tarry not, fair maiden! give + Thy hours to rapture, and be blest! + And live, since time is fleeting, live + While pleasure’s life-blood warms thy breast. + + +_Akh! kogda ja prezhde snala!_ + + O had I but known before + What a misery love might be! + Had that bright star, shining o’er, + Ne’er employ’d its witchery-- + O had I refused to bear + This his ring, that magic spell-- + Never sought the window where + He was smiling--it were well! + + When the light of passion shone, + Well I might have pass’d it by; + Let the wax-wing’d child fly on + Tow’rds some maid less blest than I: + Wherefore did I seek the grove + Where the swain was wandering then-- + Met him with a look of love-- + Left him--and return’d again? + + Ah! that heart, that was so gay, + Sinks ’neath sorrow’s heavy load: + Wretched one--I turn’d away:-- + Fix’d me in the public road-- + Wept and wail’d--Art thou unmoved, + Passing traveller?--pity me! + He was faithless that I loved:-- + Set me from love’s misery free! + + +_Stonet sisĭi golubochik._ + + Once a gentle turtle dove + Night and day dishearten’d mourn’d; + He was widow’d of his love, + She had fled, but not return’d. + + He, whose wooing voice was heard + Constant as the break of day, + Pined, and droop’d--the faithful bird + Still, and sad, and silent lay. + + While his thoughtless partner flew + Here and there--with all she sported: + All she wish’d to know, or knew, + Greeted, trifled with, or courted. + + Oft he look’d, but look’d in vain, + He so faithful, fond, and true; + Slowly pined he ’neath his pain, + Strength departed, sorrow grew. + + See, his head is ’neath his wing: + Coldness o’er his bosom creeps-- + Ah! poor solitary thing! + All is still--the turtle sleeps. + + Then the giddy, gadding dove, + Fluttering gaily, thither hies, + Takes her station by her love-- + ‘Husband! wake thee now,’ she cries. + + With her wings she fans the dead, + Bitterest thoughts begin to flow:-- + Chloe! tell me, hast thou read? + I’m a widow’d turtle too. + + +TO CHLOE. + + Of all flowers the fairest + Is the rose to me; + I had deem’d it dearest + For its constancy. + + Every day completer + Seem’d it to my view, + And its breath was sweeter, + Brighter was its hue. + + Trust not Fortune’s blossom, + For my rose I found + On the mountain’s bosom + Choked with absinth round. + + Yet it had not perish’d; + Still in smiles it shone-- + ’Twas the rose I cherish’d, + But--its breath was gone. + + Chloe! I bethink me + What a rose thou art! + Foolish one! to link me + To a woman’s heart. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] The principal inhabitants and warriors of Siberia. + +[2] The Tartar, the Ostyak, and the Bogulich nations. + +[3] Kutshum lost his kingdom, and delivered himself up to the Calmucks, +by whom he was afterwards slain. + +[4] The idols of Siberia. + +[5] Mehmet-Kul was the king’s brother, whom Jermak made prisoner and +sent to the Tzar Ivan Vassilievich. The noble family of Sibinsky have +their origin from him. + +[6] Racha was the Jupiter of the Ostyaks. Kutshum, who was bred in the +Mahommedan faith, whether by argument or by force, caused the adoption +of the Koran through a great part of Siberia. + +[7] The Russian Tzar. + +[8] The crown of Kutshum is still preserved in the museum at Moskow, +among the imperial insignia. The events referred to in the above poem +occurred in the year 1580. Ataman Jermak was sent by Ivan Vassilievich +against Kutshum, and drove him from his capital, called Siberia (whence +the name of the country): it was situated near Tobolsk.--See Karamsin’s +History of Russia. + +[9] The French also employed the steeples of Moskva as watch-houses or +observatories. + + + + +ZHUKOVSKY. + + +THE MINSTREL IN THE RUSSIAN CAMP[1]. + + MINSTREL. + + Now silence wraps the battle field! + The tents with lights are gleaming; + And lo! the bright moon’s silver shield + In the calm heaven is beaming. + Fill, fill the glass of rapture, yet, + In unity full-hearted; + In wine the bloody strife forget, + The grief for the departed! + The glasses’ ruby stream to drain + Is glory’s pride and pleasure-- + Wine! conqueror thou of care and pain, + Thou art the hero’s treasure. + + WARRIORS. + + O yes!--the ruby stream to drain + Is glory’s pride and pleasure-- + Wine! conqueror thou of care and pain, + Thou art the hero’s treasure. + + MINSTREL. + + Now to the warriors of old time, + The strong in fight and glory! + These warriors and their deeds sublime + Are lost in distant story! + The grave hath gather’d up their dust, + Their homes,--the storm hath razed them; + Their helmets are devour’d by rust, + And silent those who praised them: + But in their children live their fires, + We tread the land that bore them, + And see the shadows of our sires + With all their triumphs o’er them. + O come! in all your brightness come, + And smile complacent, near us; + Look from your high and misty home, + Encourage us and hear us. + + O Svatoslav! time’s injured son, + Thy path an eagle’s flying: + ‘There is no shame in dying--On![2] + There is no shame in dying!’ + And Donskoi, thou[3]! courageous man, + Midst heathen foes we find thee; + Destruction leading on thy van, + And nought but death behind thee. + + Thou, Peter! thou, the hero’s crown, + ‘Poltava!’ is repeated: + Thy foes have thrown their sabres down, + Thee, all the world has greeted. + What! Robbers, would ye build your throne + Upon our cities’ ruin? + Thy horse and rider fell--begone! + For vengeance is pursuing. + Go hide thee in thy native woods, + There thy ambition smother; + Fate drives thee to their solitudes, + Yes! thou, the rebel’s[4] brother. + + Who is that white-hair’d hero, who + That northern more than Roman? + His penetrating glance looks through + The phalanx of the foeman: + From yonder clouds what shadowy rows + Are tow’rds his footsteps turning? + The spirits of the Alpine snows + Are wailing loud and mourning. + Franks and Sarmatians, at his view, + Death’s icy paleness borrow; + Well they may fear him--well may rue-- + It is the great Suvorov! + + Hail! sons of ages long gone by! + Your glories are recorded; + We follow you to victory, + Like you to be rewarded. + We see your ranks--they lead us on-- + The foe retreats before us; + We scatter death, as ye have done, + While ye are smiling o’er us. + Drawn sword, and flowing glass, elate + We look to our Creator! + ‘And death for death, and hate for hate, + And curses on the traitor.’ + + WARRIORS. + + Draw swords, fill glasses, then, elate, + Look to our great Creator! + ‘And death for death, and hate for hate, + And curses on the traitor.’ + + MINSTREL. + + This glass then to our country’s joys, + Ne’er may our hearts feel colder; + The scenes of mirth while we were boys, + Of love, when we grew older! + Our country’s plains, our country’s sky, + The streams that flow beneath it; + The memories of infancy, + And all the thoughts that wreath it + With joyous hopes and visions blest-- + Dear shrine of our affection, + How glows our heart, how beats our breast, + When beams the recollection. + That is our country, there our home, + There wife and babes attend us; + And oft their prayers towards us roam, + And oft to Heaven commend us! + There dwell our plighted, chosen ones; + How bright their memory flashes! + Our monarchs’ dust, our monarchs’ thrones, + And there our fathers’ ashes. + For them we fight, for them we rove, + For them have all forsaken; + And may our land’s undying love + In our sons’ breasts awaken! + + WARRIORS. + + For them we fight, for them we rove, + For them have all forsaken; + And may our country’s fadeless love + In our sons’ breasts awaken! + + MINSTREL. + + Now to the Tzar that rules the Russ, + And be his sceptre glorious; + His throne an altar is to us-- + We swear to be victorious. + The oath is heard--’tis stamp’d in blood-- + ’Tis sworn--there’s no returning; + Our swords shall make our promise good, + Our hearts with love are burning. + Each Russ a son of victory, + To duty’s ranks we throng us; + Let every craven coward fly, + For fear was ne’er among us. + + WARRIORS. + + Each Russ a son of victory, + To duty’s ranks we throng us; + Let every craven coward fly, + For fear was ne’er among us. + + MINSTREL. + + Now to the chiefs that lead us on, + The captains that we cherish; + In life, in death, conjoin’d as one, + And heaven for those who perish: + That heaven where all, all holy is, + All love, and peace, and union, + And courage, dignity, and bliss, + In undisturb’d communion. + This stormy world we look beyond, + To that serene though far-land; + Here danger is our common bond, + And glory is our garland. + + There sit the wreath-crown’d chiefs who led + Our fathers long before us; + Their shield of strength shall guard our head, + Their voices thunder o’er us: + On us their wakening smiles descend, + Their frowns our foes pursuing; + Yes! through their ranks what terrors blend, + And threaten them with ruin! + But they shall lead our warriors through, + Amidst the battle’s raging; + Death quits his terrors in our view, + When with the foe engaging. + + Hail! martial hero! chief in fight[5], + Thou with the ringlets hoary, + Who, like an eagle, takest thy flight + Midst storm and thunder’s glory. + His furrow’d, weather-beaten brow + Attracts the inquiry curious; + How cold and calm before the foe, + But in his rage how furious! + O wonder! from heaven’s halls there flew + A glorious eagle o’er him[6]; + He bow’d his head--what shouts! they knew + That victory was before him. + + Fly to our fathers! eagle fly, + And tell them we are speeding + To fame, to glorious victory, + Our hoary chieftain leading. + He, strong in council, cool in fray, + In every purpose steady; + Well known to him is triumph’s way, + His wisdom ever ready. + Were Moskva’s glories razed in vain, + Our country’s trophies riven? + No! Russia stands erect again, + For we are here--and heaven! + + Hail! hail, ye martial leaders all! + Jermolov, valiant Roman! + Friend of the brave, and valour’s wall, + And terror of the foeman. + Rajevsky, thou the chief ador’d! + Amidst the strife we found thee + Baring thy bosom to the sword, + With thy young sons around thee. + Hail! Milorádovich! to thee; + The field of battle’s thunder: + Thou tearest, in thy ecstasy, + The tyrant’s chains asunder. + + And thou who saved’st Petropolis, + Thou, Vittgenstein! brave leader! + Shield of thy country, and her bliss, + Thou dread of her invader! + With darkness was his vision fill’d, + When first the traitor saw thee; + Alone, but leaning on thy shield, + Numbering his ranks below thee. + Then fear came o’er that traitor’s mind, + His courage left him shatter’d; + Thy sword was drawn--and, like the wind, + His trembling ranks were scatter’d. + + Hail! Konovnizin! thou our joy! + From danger absent never: + Where bullets whiz, and arrows fly, + There have we found thee ever. + Before--behind--around him--we + Saw terror, death, and danger: + He stood, in his serenity, + To all alarm a stranger. + Himself forgotten--see him bear + Down on those ranks of slavery; + And valour’s self stood wond’ring there-- + He was the god of bravery. + + And thou, Platov! thou storm of fight, + Thou Ataman the Lion! + Thy busy lance--thy sling of might, + Scathe--scatter all they fly on. + A wild wolf broken from his lair-- + An eagle on stretch’d pinion:-- + Death whispering in the foeman’s ear, + Throughout thy wide dominion. + Amidst the woods his torches fly-- + How spreads the conflagration! + Bridges oppose--in dust they lie-- + Towns--all is desolation! + + Hail! Nestor Benningsen, to thee! + Nought can thy mind inveigle; + Hero and sage--to enemy + A serpent and an eagle. + And hail! Woronzov! young and gay, + Though ripen’d by discretion. + And Tormassov! in battles gray, + The flying foe’s oppression. + And Baggovuth[7], with heart of mail, + Waving his sabre o’er ye. + Hail! ranks of honour’d heroes, hail! + Our country’s pride and glory! + + WARRIORS. + + Hail! ranks of honour’d heroes, hail! + Our country’s pride and glory! + + MINSTREL. + + Now, brothers! hallow those who died, + Those from the strife departed; + Their place is vacant by our side, + Before us they have started. + No more shall they disperse the foe, + Or hear the battle’s thunder; + Their hearts no more with rapture glow-- + They sleep in silence under. + Their sword, their shield, are on the ground, + Where damp and rust shall eat them; + Their proud war-horses wander round, + Without a friend to greet them. + + O Kulinev! the brave, the strong! + Upon thy shield reclining, + Thou diedst amidst the battle throng, + While thy bright sword was shining. + Thou diedst e’en where thy childhood pass’d[8] + In happiest visions o’er thee; + And thou hast made thy grave at last + Where first thy cradle bore thee: + And sure thy latest sigh was blest, + For faith’s best hopes thou keepedst; + That last sigh sought thy mother’s breast-- + Reach’d heaven--and then thou sleepedst. + + And where, Kutaissov![9] tell us where + Thou in thy bloom alightest? + His heart, his countenance were clear + As virtue when ’tis brightest; + He threw him in the battle ring-- + Death dropt its mantle o’er him: + He touch’d the sweet harp’s sweetest string; + Let every string deplore him! + His steed approaches, dyed with gore-- + Where is the hand to guide her? + His shield is there, blood-clotted o’er-- + The shield--but not the rider. + + Where are thy ashes, in what vale, + What unknown cavern hidden? + For they are sought o’er hill and dale + By a heart-broken maiden. + There lovelier shines the morning dew, + The sun is brighter glowing; + The breezes they are gentler too, + More fair the flowrets blowing! + And angel forms at midnight come, + When mortal eyes are sleeping; + Their silent watch around thy tomb + In mild devotion keeping. + + And thou, Bagration![10] tears were shed, + And prayers for thee ascended:-- + ’Twas all in vain, for thou art dead-- + Thy hero-race is ended. + From rank to rank our warriors sigh’d, + ‘God’s mercy shall restore him!’ + And oft our foes, despairing, cried, + ‘We yet shall fly before him!’ + Nay! nay! that noble soul is gone, + That generous heart is riven; + To join Suvorov, he is flown;-- + To all the brave in heaven. + + Shades of our heroes! ye are blest, + Ye roam in Eden’s gardens, + Where time’s departed chieftains rest, + And angels are the wardens. + Your memory still has left its blaze, + Its holy beamings reach us; + A light which flows to distant days, + How brave men died to teach us. + Your names still mount above your graves, + Your glories we inherit; + And every unfurl’d flag that waves + Is pregnant with your spirit. + + WARRIORS. + + Your names still soar above your graves, + Your glories we inherit; + And every unfurl’d flag that waves + Is pregnant with your spirit. + + MINSTREL. + + One glass to vengeance! In the fray + ‘Heaven for the right!’ our voices, + And ‘death or victory!’ proudly say; + And victory’s self rejoices. + O count not on your numbers, foe! + In vain ye boast your numbers; + Our march is like the torrent’s flow, + Which never, never slumbers. + We have no treasures, but we bring + Our arrows and our lances, + And round us desolation fling-- + And death is in our glances. + + The Robber! he had spread his power + Around our Moskva’s borders; + And from our Kremlin’s sacred tower + He issued forth his orders. + ‘I trample on the base-born clay, + ‘Which folly’s pride assembles, + ‘And prince and subject both obey.’ + Insulting one!--he trembles. + For vengeance wakes her from her rest, + And arms her with her torches; + Heaves ruin on the tyrant’s breast, + And drives him from our porches. + + Now bring thy slavish princes, now, + To our ice-girded nation; + And lead them o’er our paths of snow + To horror and starvation. + Come, Winter! rouse thee from thy bed, + And close our country’s portals-- + O see! he strews the land with dead, + With piles of frozen mortals. + Now, Robber! look what thou hast done; + Come, for the strife prepare thee! + The land we fight on is our own-- + God’s vengeance, wretch! is near thee. + + WARRIORS. + + Now, Robber! look what thou hast done; + Come, for the strife prepare thee! + The land we fight on is our own-- + And God’s revenge is near thee! + + MINSTREL. + + One glass to friendship’s glory lend, + That makes all sorrows lighter-- + O happy he who owns a friend! + Heaven has no blessing brighter. + Our joys to swell, our griefs to share, + While by life’s storms we’re driven, + Our conscience to direct us here, + Our friendly staff for heaven. + O be _the sacred bond_[11] our guide, + Our law, and our allegiance! + ’Tis by our life-blood sanctified, + And we have sworn obedience. + + WARRIORS. + + O be _the sacred bond_ our guide, + Our law, and our allegiance! + ’Tis by our life-blood sanctified, + And we have sworn obedience. + + MINSTREL. + + And _this_ to Love!--and break it too-- + Its flame shines ever purely! + For love’s sweet smile, and glory’s glow, + They are twin-sisters surely. + For he whom Heaven has train’d and taught, + By love’s soft step attended, + Whose thought still meets another’s thought, + While heart with heart is blended-- + He is the hero--doubt or fear + Ne’er enter in his bosom-- + For doth he not the garland wear + Of which love wreathed the blossom? + + O love! thou art our morning star; + How oft our steps thou meetest! + Thy gay light glances, bright and far-- + Thy songs of all are sweetest: + Thy breath oft waves our banners high, + And to the fight thou guidest; + Thou smilest on our victory, + And o’er our dreams presidest. + Look, foeman! on our battle shield, + Our hearts’ love was the giver; + ’Twas she who wrote upon its field, + ‘Thine--even in death--for ever!’ + + Fond dreams, which fancy clads in all + The beauties love can borrow! + She sits behind yon garden wall + Communing with her sorrow. + Her plaints, her prayers, to heaven ascend, + To thee her thoughts are flying-- + Now tears, now smiles, embalm her friend, + ‘Ah! perhaps my friend is dying! + When shall I hear his accents--when + Will fly these days so dreary? + O dawn, sweet morn of joy, again, + For I am well nigh weary.’ + + O friends! it is a pride to die + For those whose faith is plighted; + Their love is ever hovering nigh, + And we may die delighted. + Their name upon our lips shall hang, + While the death-wound is burning;-- + And it shall soothe the parting pang, + While to earth’s bosom turning. + The memory of the maid we love + Shall, while we’re sinking, brighten, + And seek with us the world above, + Its mansions to enlighten. + + WARRIORS. + + The memory of the maid we love + Shall, while we’re sinking, brighten-- + We’ll bear it to the world above, + Its mansions to enlighten. + + MINSTREL. + + Now to the Muse the red-grape press-- + The Muse, whose voice of thunder + Gives courage, energy, success, + And tears fear’s chains asunder:-- + The arrows fly--and young and old + With shield and sabre arm them-- + Midst the death-shower they throw them bold, + For nothing can alarm them. + The minstrel’s song has touch’d their soul, + And valour’s tears are breaking, + While hoary age bursts time’s control, + And youthful strength is waking. + + Pride of the elder time, Bojan![12] + Whose harp, though lost to story, + Led on the brave Sclavonian + With hymns of praise and glory! + Thy songs prophetic did proclaim + Peter the Great, the glorious: + Petrov sang Saidunaisky’s name: + Derzhavin’s lyre victorious + Its tones of joy and music flung, + Forest of Kama, o’er thee: + Suvorov, thee Derzhavin sung, + Hero of poet worthy. + + Old man! O could we hear again + Thy swan-like tones to bless us! + Thou sangst not idle glory’s strain, + But vengeance to redress us. + And not for conquest, not for fame, + Thy lyre of passion pleaded-- + ’Twas struggling for an unstain’d name, + Revenge for rights invaded. + Sing, swan! thy song the chain will break + Which many a land surrounded; + And Slavery’s threatenings wax them weak + Where thy proud notes are sounded. + + O honour then the Muses’ sons! + And I--though mean and lowly:-- + Would that my lyre’s awaken’d tones + Were all inspired and holy! + In the deep valley’s loneliness + That humble lyre was shrouded: + I heard a voice, ‘To battle press!’ + And to the combat crowded. + Farewell, then, music--joy, farewell! + I sped me to the battle: + My song--the trumpets’ piercing swell; + My choir--the cannons’ rattle. + + Yet will I sing the Robber’s fall, + And your bright deeds, elated; + For even now some whizzing ball + Perchance with death is fated. + But could my dying hour disperse + The dreams I loved to cherish? + And crush the spirit of my verse + With my faint name to perish? + The robber to his fame hath built + A pile of bloodstain’d iron; + And there your glory and his guilt + Time’s records shall environ. + + WARRIORS. + + Then welcome be the sons of song, + Who bid our victories blossom; + And as our fathers pass along + With triumph fills their bosom. + + MINSTREL. + + Your glasses:--To the God of Might, + Bend on your knees before him: + He led you to the glorious fight, + And saved you--now adore him! + The shield of virtue is his rod, + He saves the poor and lowly; + The rock of ages is our God-- + He scathes the proud one’s folly. + Look to the glorious realms above, + Where not a tear e’er started; + And hear from thence that voice of love, + ‘My children! be strong hearted!’ + + O immortality! thou sea + Of silence--peaceful portal! + How happy who is launch’d on thee, + And straight becomes immortal! + O happy they who fall in fight! + For those they leave behind them + Seek through a long and gloomy night + The grave that might have shrined them. + The son of battle breaks the bond + Which to the vain world ties him; + Soars to a brighter world beyond, + Where misery never tries him. + + But we?--O let us trust in God, + Whate’er our portion given, + To lead us through life’s darksome road + To happiness and heaven: + Obedient to his holy will, + Scattering all sin before us; + And gently moving forward still, + Till darkness gathers o’er us. + If low our lot--a courage free; + If high--no scornful blindness; + In strength and power--simplicity; + And universal kindness. + + Ready obedience where ’tis due-- + Our oaths--a sacred token! + To love unshaken, fervent, true, + And friendship’s pledge--unbroken. + To those who sink--a ready hand, + And comfort to the mourning; + For tyrants--valour to withstand, + For treachery--hate and scorning. + The blaze of truth to shame a lie; + All honest faith--befriended; + And in death’s fight--calm bravery, + And peace--when all is ended. + + O God of might! be thou our shield, + Our squadrons lead and rally! + Rider and horse to thee must yield, + And perish in the valley. + O God! in our behalf appear-- + Our foemen’s ranks be broken; + Come, day of vengeance, dark and drear! + And lo! the Lord has spoken. + I saw him numerous as the sand + Spread over hills and plains there; + He waved his bright and murderous brand, + And now--no trace remains there. + + WARRIORS. + + I saw him numerous as the sand + Spread over hills and plains there; + He waved his bright and murderous brand, + And now--no trace remains there. + + MINSTREL. + + But look! the clouds are brightening now, + The daylight is appearing; + See! o’er the distant mountain’s brow + The morning star uprearing. + The twilight breaks--the vapours damp + The hills are now surrounding; + And lo! the slumber-girded camp, + And morning-music sounding. + But soon--but soon--as hours return, + That band so calmly sleeping, + Shall fate--her hand is on the urn-- + Shall fate prepare for weeping! + + O dawn thee not--let darkness try + Thy waking beams to smother! + For ah! to-day shall many an eye + Mourn o’er a perish’d brother. + Vain prayer--along the mountain’s height + I hear the thunder roaring; + Shouts from the plain announce the fight, + The sun tow’rds heaven is soaring: + The war-steeds rage and foam--anon + The shock of arms engaging-- + The chieftain leads his soldiers on, + And hearts with fire are raging. + + This is no time for wine nor song! + Come, to the battle hurry! + With naked sabre join the song, + For death or triumph’s glory! + Yes! ye who love us far away, + Farewell! and if for ever, + Preserve the memory of the day, + And O forget us never! + Thou, Lord of Lords! our bulwark prove-- + Beloved, one sacred greeting: + Here--tender and undying love, + There--an eternal meeting! + + WARRIORS. + + Thou, Lord of Lords! our bulwark prove-- + Beloved, one sacred greeting: + Here--tender and undying love, + There--an eternal meeting! + + +CATHERINE[13]. + +_SVÆTLANA._ + + St. Silvester’s evening hour + Calls the maidens round: + Shoes to throw behind the door, + Delve the snowy ground. + Peep behind the window there, + Burning wax to pour; + And the corn for chanticleer + Reckon three times o’er. + In the water-fountain fling + Solemnly the golden ring, + Earrings too of gold; + Kerchief white must cover them + While we are chanting over them + Magic songs of old. + + Feebly through the vapours shine + Moonbeams on the hill; + Silently sat Catherine, + Sorrowful and still. + ‘Maiden, why so pensive? we + Fain thy voice would hear-- + Come and join our revelry! + Take the ring, thou dear! + Sing ‘Make haste and melt, and bring, + ‘Goldsmith! come with golden ring, + ‘Golden wreath for Kate! + ‘Ring to deck her hand of snow, + ‘Wreath to bloom upon her brow + ‘At the altar-gate.’ + + I can sing no choral song + While my love’s away; + For my days are sad and long, + Gloomier every day. + Left alone--a year is past-- + Not a line to send-- + O my life is but a waste, + Sever’d from my friend! + Hast thou then forgotten me? + Tell me, wanderer! can it be? + Where’s thy dwelling--where? + See, I pine ’neath secret smart: + Guardian angel! watch my heart-- + Listen to my prayer! + + Cover’d with a napkin white, + Stood a table there; + Where a mirror, clear and bright, + Shone amidst the glare. + Vacant seats for two were placed-- + ‘Look within, O look! + ’Tis the hour of spirits--haste! + Read Fate’s opening book: + To the mirror turn thy eye, + And the door shall silently + Open--List! ’tis he! + Gently shall thy lover glide, + Seat him by his maiden’s side, + And shall sup with thee.’ + + Cath’rine sat before the glass-- + All alone was she, + Watching all the shades that pass, + Shuddering inwardly. + But the glass is dark and drear, + Still as death the room; + Scarce a fading taper there + Flitted midst the gloom. + O how fear her bosom shook! + Backwards then she dared not look! + Dread had dimm’d her sight: + And the dying tapers’ noise, + And the cricket’s chirping voice, + Cried--’tis middle-night! + + Breathless terror chill’d her o’er, + And she shades her brow:-- + List! a knock is at the door, + And it opens now: + To the mirror then she turn’d, + Stupefied with fear; + Their two brilliant eyeballs burn’d, + Ever bent on her. + Horror heaved her breast, when lo! + Gentle accents, sweet and slow, + Glided on her ear: + ‘All thy wishes are fulfill’d-- + All thy spirit’s sighs be still’d-- + ’Tis thy lover, dear!’ + + Cath’rine look’d--her lover’s arms + Were around her thrown: + ‘Maiden! banish all alarms, + We are ever one! + Come! the priest is waiting now, + Life with life to blend; + Torches in the chapel glow, + Bridal songs ascend.’ + Cath’rine smiled--her lover led-- + O’er the snow-clad court they sped, + And the portals gain; + There a ready sledge they found-- + Two fleet coursers stamp the ground, + Struggling with the rein. + + Onwards! like the winds they go, + When the storm awakes; + Scattering round them clouds of snow, + While the pathway shakes. + All was dark and wild as night, + Terrible, and new: + Mist-wreaths dimm’d the pale moon’s light, + Plains were drench’d in dew. + Fear again possess’d the maid, + And in gentlest tones she said, + ‘Speak--my lover true!’ + He was silent then--but soon + Turn’d him to the wintry moon,-- + Pale and paler grew. + + Through the snow--a mountain’s height-- + Next the wild steeds pass’d; + And a church appear’d in sight, + ’Midst a gloomy waste: + Then a whirlwind burst the door-- + Men are there who mourn; + Clouds of incense rolling o’er, + Waxen tapers burn. + Lo! a black sepulchral shroud-- + ‘Dust to dust!’ the priest aloud + Chants--the horses flew + Tow’rds the door--her agony + Rose--he spoke no word--but he + Pale and paler grew. + + Clouds of snow ascend again-- + Lo! the coursers fly; + And a raven on the plain + Croaks, and passes by; + ’Twas an awful, ominous sound! + And the moonlight wanes; + Darkness wraps the desert round + O’er the steaming manes. + See! a glimmering light is there, + And upon the heather bare + Stands a humble shed. + Swifter--swifter flew the car, + Whirl’d the snow around it far, + But no farther sped. + + At the door they stopp’d anon, + There--a moment stood:-- + Steeds--sledge--bridegroom--all are gone: + All is solitude. + Catherine on the waste was left, + Midst dense clouds of snow; + Of her lover now bereft, + To commune with woe: + But she hears a footstep now, + Turns, and sees a taper glow; + Crosses her, and stalks + Trembling to the door--and knocks:-- + Of itself the door unlocks-- + In the maiden walks. + + There, upon a winding sheet, + Lay a mortal bier; + Christ’s bright image at its feet + Shone resplendent there. + Whither--whither art thou come, + Maiden, all unblest? + Thou hast sought a wretched home, + Art a hapless guest! + Catherine to the image flies, + Wipes the snow-dust from her eyes, + Bends her down and weeps; + Presses to her breast the cross-- + Thoughts of heaven her soul engross, + And she silence keeps. + + All is still!--The storm is hush’d, + Faint the tapers beam, + Light across the chamber rush’d-- + Momentary gleam:-- + All is wrapt in silence deep + As when visions come. + List! what gentle rustlings sweep + Through the hallow’d room: + Lo! a dove of silvery white, + Soft and still, with eyes of light, + Tow’rds the mourner springs: + For a moment hovers there, + Then upon her bosom fair + Flaps his beauteous wings. + + Silence reign’d again.--Can all, + All illusion be? + Lo! the corpse beneath the pall + Shudders fearfully: + Bursts the mantling bier of death, + Throws his shroudings by: + On his brow he wore a wreath, + Frozen was his eye: + From his lips a murmur breaks, + With his hand a sign he makes, + Pointing to the maid: + Trembling she--she dared not move-- + But the bright and silver dove + On her bosom play’d. + + Fann’d her with its gentle wing:-- + To the dead man’s breast + Then she saw her sweet dove spring-- + There it seem’d to rest. + Heaved that icy corpse a sigh, + As in dark despair, + Gnash’d his teeth in agony, + Turn’d his eyes on her. + Paler wax’d those lips so pale; + And the fix’d eye told the tale + That life’s film was broke. + Catherine! lift thy drooping head! + All is o’er--thy lover’s dead!-- + God!----and she awoke. + + Where?--within the self-same room + Where the mirror stood:-- + Morn was chasing twilight’s gloom + With its golden flood; + Chanticleer had flapp’d his wings, + Sung his early song: + All is bright--the matin rings-- + O thy dream was long! + Long indeed, and dreadful too; + And my spirit long shall rue + The dread prophecy! + Tell me, Future’s misty night, + Shall my fate be dark or bright, + Bliss or misery? + + Catherine in the window sat, + Sorrowful and still: + Tell me--tell me what is _that_? + Mist-cloud on the hill? + In the sunbeams shines the snow; + Leaps the frozen dew: + List! I hear the bells below, + And the horses too. + Lo! they come--the sledge is near-- + Now the Isvoshchik’s voice I hear-- + They have pass’d the grove:-- + Fling the gates wide open--fling-- + Who’s the guest the coursers bring? + Who?--’Tis thou, my love! + + Catherine, tell me now! _The dream_-- + Is the dream forgot? + Youths may faithful be--who seem + Faithless--may they not? + When the light of love hath lent + Brightness to his eye; + When his lips are eloquent;-- + Timid maid! reply! + Open now the temple-gate, + Spring on wings of joy elate, + Truth, we honour thee! + Pour the glass, and join the hymn, + Ne’er may days of darkness dim + Youth’s fidelity. + + Thou dost smile, sweet maid! but deem, + Deem it worth a thought; + For that memorable dream + Stores of wisdom brought. + Thou dost smile again--but know, + It had lessons holy: + Fame, it told thee, was but--show; + Worldly wisdom--folly. + This my song was meant to say, + Hope and trust, should guide our way-- + Maid! there’s no mistaking: + This the genuine moral seems, + Miseries--are only dreams, + Joy--is the awaking. + + O my Cath’rine! never dwell + On that dream of gloom; + Heaven! build up her citadel, + There may grief ne’er come; + Not a cloud her joys o’ershade, + Not a joy decay; + Holy is that gentle maid + As the light of day. + Ne’er be it obscur’d by woe, + Let her days of comfort flow + Like a forest river; + And let joy, with smiles serene, + Be as it hath ever been, + Her bright guide for ever. + + +THEON AND ÆSCHINES. + + To his country’s penates wends Æschines home, + To the mist-cover’d land of Alpheus; + He long had sought happiness o’er the wide world, + But happiness fled--like a shadow. + + And Bacchus and Venus, and pleasure and fame, + His heart had consumed--not contented; + The blossom of life had decay’d like his soul, + And hope had been banish’d by sadness. + + The stream of the wavy Alpheus appears, + Alpheus, with flower-bedeck’d borders, + And wakes all the thoughts of the days hurried by, + And of youth-tide, for ever departed! + + All the banks are as fair, all the fields are as bright, + And the sky smiles delighted above him; + But where is that hope which shed o’er them a ray, + A ray of ineffable beauty? + + The dwelling of Theon now Æschines seeks;-- + He dwelt in a peace-girded cottage; + His wishes all bounded, and moderate his hopes-- + He dwelt on the shores of Alpheus. + + ’Twas just where Alpheus springs into the sea, + With olive trees deck’d and plantanas, + That Æschines saw a humble abode-- + It was the mean dwelling of Theon. + + In the hot arch of Heaven the day-tide declined, + The calm stream of waters was glowing; + A rosy smile play’d round the humble abode, + Where the myrtles of fragrance were blooming. + + A white grave of marble, with myrtle-wreaths hung, + Appears on a gentle mound rising; + Where roses of fragrance, and jasmin’s pale flowers, + Their branches entwined, interblended. + + Theon sat near his hut;--he was lost in deep thought, + While he look’d on the purple-tinged billow; + Then suddenly turn’d on his Æschines--saw, + And remember’d his youthful companion. + + ‘To Zeus--Preserver! be honour and praise! + Again dost thou see thy penates!’ + Cried Theon--while rapture shone bright in his eye, + As he Æschines press’d to his bosom. + + And with glances look’d through him again and again, + His visage was troubled and gloomy: + And Æschines mournfully gazed on his friend, + His gaze it was calm, but was mournful. + + ‘O Theon! when first I abandon’d thee here, + Hope painted me visions of pleasure; + Far different my fate from my dreams--I have found + That hope is a faithless deceiver. + + ‘And tell me, my Theon, has such been thy fate, + For such doth thy visage betoken? + Have sorrow and sadness intruded on thee, + And thy peaceful, domestic penates?’ + + Theon groan’d in his spirit, and look’d to the grave, + ‘These, these are the silent recorders, + If God lent us life to be wasted in joy-- + Ah! life is the sister of sorrow. + + ‘O no! I complain not of Zeus’ decrees, + For life and the world beam with beauty; + But bliss that is fleeting, and dreams that are vain, + I chase not for earthly enjoyment. + + ‘What time can create, and what time can destroy, + Why call we our own;--it was never;-- + ’Tis the soul’s own possession, the spirit of love, + The thoughts that sublimely transport us. + + ‘These, these are true bliss!--Friend, this is no dream, + I, Æschines! loved and was happy; + ’Twas love that refined and enraptured my soul-- + And that taught me the pleasure of living. + + ‘Midst twilight sublimest conceptions appear’d, + Creation I saw in its glory, + And felt that my pilgrimage led through the world + To something far brighter above it. + + ‘Woe is me! for I loved--she is gone--she is gone-- + And the bliss is for ever departed, + That dawn’d with such lustre--how vainly it dawn’d! + How gaily--how swiftly it faded! + + ‘O no! nought erases the track of the past, + In the heart it for ever endureth. + The sorrow of parting!--That, that too is love!-- + And the heart loses nought of its treasure. + + ‘And is not the pang which e’en death leaves behind + A germ which hope, bright and eternal, + Awakes; while the known, but the mist-cover’d land, + Gives back all we loved to our mem’ry. + + ‘For he who has loved, and loved truly, my friend! + Can never, can never be lonely; + The world when _she_ blossom’d, with _her_ is still fill’d, + Ever present, unchang’d and immortal. + + ‘Alone I tread onward the path of my doom, + To its boundary sublime ever tending; + She led me--she leads me--together we toil, + ’Tis the bond which not death could dissever. + + ‘Thoughts pure and sublime throw a charm over life! + And with ecstasy oft I look round me + On the fair face of earth, that is smiling with good, + On the wonderful, glorious creation. + + ‘And peaceful I turn from the markstone of death + To the visions which hail me immortal; + And hope lights with glory the dulness of earth, + As Aurora the canopied heaven. + + ‘’Tis hope that exalts me far, far above fate, + And hallows this earthly existence; + And the thought, the proud thought I am _man_, swells my breast + With gratitude, triumph, and glory. + + ‘This silent, this mystical gravestone, to me, + My friend! is a pledge and a token, + That the being which faith has depictured shall dawn + As sure as the past is departed. + + ‘This grave is the door--the lock’d door of delight-- + Will it open?--I hope, and expect it: + On _that_ side the pris’ner is waiting, who here + For a moment was seen--and departed. + + ‘O friend! thou pursuest a false, fleeting good, + Thou snatchest the joy of a moment, + Thou losest the bliss that is sure and sublime, + And a life that is priceless despisest. + + ‘This feeling of gloom, it benightens the earth-- + Give your hand!--In the bosom of friendship + Let the world, and let nature be lovely again, + For, believe me, the earth is most lovely. + + ‘When life was conferr’d, _all_, _all_ was conferr’d-- + ’Tis the path, ’tis the promise of greatness; + And sorrow and joy, they are means to that end-- + Praise Zeus--O praise the Creator!’ + + +THE BARD. + + Through the dark wood seest thou that thorn-crown’d heap, + That o’er the lingering rivulet seems to rest; + Where the still stream glides by, as if in sleep, + And scarce a leaf is by the zephyr prest: + There hangs a harp--a garland, see! + That heap--it is a minstrel’s bed: + There are his ashes scattered-- + Bard! woe is thee! + + His soul was lovely--infant purity + Dwelt in his heart--a fleeting pilgrim, driven + By life’s first gales o’er seas of misery, + Sighing and longing for death’s silent haven-- + That haven reach’d he speedily: + He sleeps death’s sleep--so dark, so dull-- + His life was short, but sorrowful-- + Bard! woe is thee! + + He sang the song of friendship loud and sweet-- + But ah! the friend is gone;--his holy strain + Breathed of pure love--’twas sad, though exquisite, + For he knew nought of love but love’s deep pain! + All slumbers now--all--silently, + Young bard! with thee--thy music’s breath + Is still--still’d by the frown of death:-- + Bard! woe is thee! + + Here, by this shrine, when the tir’d sun was setting + In melancholy brightness, thus he pour’d + His farewell hymn, ‘Fair world! thy charms forgetting, + ‘I leave thee, and for ever!--I adored + ‘A wild dream’s shade--an ecstasy! + ‘’Tis past!--Thou lyre! be still--my hand + ‘Is chill’d--I seek a brighter land:-- + ‘Bard! woe is thee! + + ‘That wild dream fled--what else is left?--the sky + ‘O’erclouded--the storm raging--an abyss + ‘Yawning around--hopes that just smile, and fly + ‘To darkness--solid woes, and shadowy bliss. + ‘Haven of peace! for me, for me + ‘Prepare thy welcome, grave, whose road, + ‘Though misty, leads to joy’s abode! + ‘Bard! woe is thee!’ + + Yes! he is fled--that magic harp is still, + His footstep-traces now are worn away; + And sorrow dwells on stream, and vale, and hill-- + And silence, save when thoughtless zephyrs play + With the dried wreath that carelessly + Hangs--or in twilight’s feeble ray + Some spirit bids the harp-strings say, + Bard! woe is thee! + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] Zhukovsky accompanied the Russian army from Moscow. He wrote this +piece just before the battle on the Tarutina. + +[2] These words are attributed by the old Russian historians to the +great Duke Svatoslav Sgorevich, and are said to have led to one of his +most brilliant victories over the Greeks. “Let us not shame our Russian +land--Let our bones lie here--There is no disgrace in dying!” + +[3] Dmitrij Ivanovich (of the Don), the saviour of his country from +Tartarian slavery. Ever since the unfortunate battle of Kalka (1223), +the hopes of redemption seemed feeble and distant. He assembled his +troops, and defeated the countless hosts of Mamai on the shores of the +Don. + +[4] Mazeppa. + +[5] Prince Smolensko. + +[6] Before the battle of Borodino an eagle hovered round his head, and +was observed by the whole army, who set up a general shout of joy. + +[7] Baggovuth was killed in the battle of the Tarutina. + +[8] Near Lutzin, where he had passed his boyhood, and where his mother +yet lived. + +[9] Kutaissov was a young poet of considerable talents: he was killed +at the battle of Borodino. His horse was seen wildly galloping about, +covered with blood; and his body could not be discovered for a long +time. + +[10] Bagration received his mortal wound at the battle of Borodino; but +it was for a long time expected that he would recover. + +[11] Holy Alliance. + +[12] Of Bojan little is known. He is supposed to have accompanied the +Russians in the dark ages, and to have excited them to valour with his +magic lyre. + +[13] I have adopted the word Catherine. SVÆTLANA does not easily +accommodate itself to our organs of sense. + + + + +KARAMSIN. + + +RAÏSSA. + + In the dark night the storm-wind rages, + The gray flash trembles in the sky; + Rolls from the blackening clouds the thunder, + And rattling torrents sweep the wood. + + No signs of life, of living beings, + The welcoming roof had shelter’d all, + All but one lost and lonely wanderer-- + Raïssa--to the dark night bare. + + Despair was seated in her bosom; + The thunder-tempest moved her not; + And even the hurricane’s loud howling + Scarce drown’d Raïssa’s heavy plaints. + + Her cheek was like the faded foliage, + Her lip--th’ unwater’d, withering flow’r; + Upon her eye--a veil of darkness, + And fearful were her bosom’s throbs. + + There hurried from her snowy bosom, + Which savage, thorny boughs had torn, + Of burning blood a crimson rivulet-- + It fell upon the green damp ground. + + Above the sea, a granite mountain + Raised proudly its gigantic head; + Raïssa scaled it, wandering lonely + Through clefts and stony pyramids. + + The deep raged furiously--the lightning + Frightfully flash’d;--the mountain-waves + Roll’d, lifting up their maddening voices; + And the earth trembled as they spoke. + + Raïssa look’d around--was silent: + But soon her tones of sorrow burst, + And mingled with the raging tempest-- + ‘Lost--lost for ever! Woe is me! + + ‘Kronīd--Kronīd--O cruel lover! + O whither, whither art thou fled? + Why hast thou left thy own Raïssa + Alone in such a dreadful night? + + ‘Kronīd--return--return--forgiveness, + Forgetfulness, shall both be thine: + No!--Thou wilt come not to Raïssa-- + Why did I know thee--wherefore love? + + ‘My father and my mother loved me, + And fondest love was their return; + My days roll’d by, on downy pinions, + Midst harmless sports and joyous thoughts. + + ‘Thou didst approach me like an angel, + And, sighing, these sweet words didst say: + “I love thee--yes! I love--Raïssa!” + My parents’ love I soon forgot. + + ‘Transported, yet with trembling bosom, + And weeping in that dream of bliss, + Into thy opening arms I threw me, + And gave my heart alone to thee. + + ‘On thee reposed and dwelt my spirit, + I breathed, I lived for thee alone; + The sun in thy sweet smile was beaming, + Thou wert my present deity. + + ‘Why, when thy bosom beat with rapture, + Why died I not--in transports then: + Had I not seen thee false and treacherous, + How sweet, how blessed ’twere to die. + + ‘But ah! while thus securely dreaming + In deepest sleep, another maid + Loved and was loved--and I am banished-- + Banished is thy Raïssa now. + + ‘I thought I lay upon his bosom-- + I stretch’d my arms t’ embrace him there-- + I but embraced the heedless breezes-- + He was already far away. + + ‘The dream was fled--and I awoke me-- + I call’d thee--all was still as death: + I sought thee with strain’d eye--but vainly-- + My friend, my friend was no where found. + + ‘I hurried to a mountain-summit, + I--hapless-spirited! Kronīd + Is fled afar with his Liudmilla! + Then sank I senseless on the earth. + + ‘And since that miserable moment + My days, my nights in sorrow flow; + I seek thee--every where I call thee-- + But never hast thou heard my voice. + + ‘And now the spirit-worn Raïssa + Calls on thee for the last, last time;-- + For peace has left my soul for ever.-- + Farewell! and be without me blest!’ + + So spoke Raïssa--and she threw her + Into the sea. The thunder roar’d: + The heavens announced that she had perish’d + To him that had destroy’d her there. + + +THE HAVEN. + + When the dangerous rocks are past, + When the threatening tempests cease, + O how sweet to rest at last + In a silent port of peace! + + Though that port may be unknown, + Though no chart its name may bear, + Brightly beam its lights on _one_-- + Blest to find his refuge there. + + There he paints the joyous band-- + Friends and family--what more? + Bliss!--he cries--thou hallow’d land! + And he springs upon the shore. + + Life! thou art the storm--the rock! + Death! the friendly port thou art:-- + Haven from the tempest shock, + Welcoming the wanderer’s heart. + + Yes! I see from yonder tomb + Promised peace and tranquil rest: + Death! my haven! I shall come, + Soothe me on thy mother-breast. + + +SONG OF THE GOOD TZAR. + +_Pæsnya o dobrom Tzaræ._ + + Russia had a noble Tzar, + Sovereign honour’d wide and far; + He a father’s love enjoy’d, + He a father’s power employ’d. + + And he sought his children’s bliss, + And their happiness was his: + Left for them his golden halls, + Left for them his palace walls. + + He, a wanderer for them, + Left his royal diadem: + Staff and knapsack all his treasure; + Toil and danger all his pleasure. + + Wherefore hath he journey’d forth, + From his glorious, sceptred north? + Flying pride, and pomp, and power; + Suffering heat, and cold, and shower. + + Why?--because this noble king, + Light and truth and bliss might bring, + Spread intelligence, and pour + Knowledge out on Russia’s shore. + + Wherefore would this noble king + Light and truth and virtue bring, + Spread intelligence, and pour + Knowledge out on Russia’s shore? + + He would guide by wisdom’s ray + All his subjects in their way; + And while beams of glory giving, + Teach them all the arts of living. + + O thou noble King and Tzar! + Earth ne’er saw so bright a star-- + Tell me, have ye ever found + Such a prince the world around? + + +TO ----. + + Where art thou lingering, tell me, thou fair one? + There where the nightingale wakes her soft music, + In the night’s darkness complaining + From the top boughs of the myrtle? + + There, where in solitude murmurs the streamlet, + Gliding along its green borders unnoticed, + Soothing man’s turbulent bosom + Gently to peace and to silence? + + There, where the rose in its pride and its glory + Blushes, bedew’d with the tears of the morning, + While with the breezes disporting; + Whispering its thoughts to the zephyrs? + + There, where the sun first illumines the mountain-- + Heights inaccessible--cloud-fashion’d palace-- + Where, in the ages departed, + Spirits and gods had their dwellings? + + Oft have I heard thy sweet voice gently speaking, + Oft on thy throne of bright clouds have I seen thee, + Stretch’d out my arms to embrace thee-- + Ah!--I had seized but a shadow. + + +TO THE NIGHTINGALE. + + Sing in the forest’s leafy night, + Gentle bird--unnoticed sing; + Sing in Luna’s silver light, + Tones of sorrow echoing. + Tell me why my tears are falling + Like a rivulet--tell me why + Memory, when the past recalling, + Blends thee with the days gone by? + Ah! those hallow’d friends I number, + Who upon earth’s peaceful breast + In death’s tomb of silence slumber! + Green moss decks their place of rest. + All their turfs, sweet flowers adorn them, + I am left alone to mourn them-- + Still I mourn them--still regret-- + Therefore like a rivulet + Flow my tears--with whom shall I + Now thy sweetest strains enjoy? + Who shall greet the spring with me? + Spring is winter--wanting thee. + Now my soul must bow, subdued, + Life has no vicissitude; + All is dark--my heart is weary-- + And the world--all waste and dreary. + Tell me, lovely nightingale, + When thy gentle song will fall + On my grave? for O its breath + Is meet melody for death. + + + + +DOLGORUKOV. + + +THE LEGACY. + + When time’s vicissitudes are ended + Be this, be this my place of rest; + Here let my bones with earth be blended, + Till sounds the trumpet of the blest. + For here, in common home, are mingled + Their dust, whom fame or fortune singled; + And those whom fortune--fame pass’d by: + All mingled--and all mouldering;--folly + And wisdom--mirth and melancholy-- + Slaves--tyrants--all mixt carelessly. + + List! ’tis the voice of time--Creation’s + Unmeasured arch repeats the tone; + Look! even like shadows, mighty nations + Are born--flit by us--and are gone! + See! children of a common father, + See stranger-crowds, like vapors gather; + Sires--sons--descendants--come and go: + Sad history! Yet even there the spirit + Some joys may build--some hopes inherit, + And wisdom gather flowers from woe. + + There, like a bee-swarm, round the token + Of unveil’d truth, shall sects appear, + And evil’s poisonous sting be broken + In the bright glance of virtue’s spear. + And none shall ask--What dormitory + Was this man’s doom--what robes of glory + Wore he--what garlands crown’d his brow-- + Was pomp his slave?--Come, now discover + The heart, the soul--Delusion’s over-- + What was his _conduct_?--Answer now! + + Where stands yon hill-supported tower, + By Fili, shall I wake again, + Summon’d to meet Almighty Power + In judgment--like my fellow men. + I shall be there--and friends and brothers-- + Sisters and children--fathers, mothers,-- + With joy that never shall decay; + The soul, substantial blessings beaming, + (All here is shadowy and seeming) + Drinks bliss--no time can sweep away. + + Friends, on my brow, that rests when weary, + Erect no proud and pompous pile: + Your monuments are vain and dreary, + Their splendour cannot deck the vile. + A green grave, by no glare attended, + With other dust and ashes blended, + O let my dust and ashes lie; + There, as I sleep, time, never sleeping, + Shall gather ages to his keeping, + For such is nature’s destiny. + + My wife, my children shall inherit + All I possess’d--’twas mine--’tis theirs; + For death, that steals the living spirit, + Gives all earth’s fragments to its heirs. + Send round no circling-briefs of sorrow, + No garments of the raven borrow; + ’Tis idle charge--’tis costly pride. + Be gay, through rain or frosty weather, + Nor gather idle priests together + To chaunt my humble grave beside. + + Cry, orphans!--cry, ye poor!--imploring + The everlasting God, that _He_ + May save me when I sink--adoring-- + Amidst his boundless mercy-sea. + My blessing to my foes be given, + Their curses far from me be driven, + Nor break upon my hallow’d bliss; + God needs no studied words from mortals, + A sigh may enter Heaven’s wide portals-- + He could not err--He taught us this. + + No songs, no elegy--death hearkens + To music ne’er though sweet it be: + When o’er you night’s oblivion darkens, + Then let oblivion shadow me. + No verse will soften Hades’ sadness, + No verse can break on Eden’s gladness, + ’Tis all parade, and shifting glare:-- + A stream--where scatter’d trees are growing, + A secret tear--in silence flowing-- + No monument as these so fair. + + Such slumber here--their memory flashes + Across my thoughts.--Hail--Sister! hail-- + I kiss thy sacred bed of ashes, + And soon shall share thy mournful tale. + Thou hast paid thy earthly debts--’tis ended-- + Thy cradle and thy tomb are blended, + The circle of thy being run; + And now in peace thy history closes, + And thy still’d, crumbling frame reposes + Where life’s short, feverish play is done. + + I live and toil--my thoughts still follow + The idle world:--my cares pursue + Dreams and delusions, baseless, hollow, + And vanities still false though new. + Then fly I earthly joys--I find them + Leave terror-working stings behind them: + ‘Beware! beware!’ experience cries; + Yet ah! how faint the voice of duty, + One smile of yonder flattering beauty + Would make me waste even centuries. + + + + +BATIUSHKOV. + + +TO F. F. KOKOSHKIN, + +ON THE DEATH OF HIS BRIDE. + + Ah! the flower is dead--the beauty is departed-- + All is fled we cherished; + Love and Friendship, weep! Weep, Hymen, broken-hearted! + Happiness is perished. + + Friendship! thy swift hands, with smiles and joys, array’d her + In her living glory; + Now, with sighs and tears, those trembling hands have laid her + In earth’s dormitory. + + Plant the cypress there, the yew’s dark umbrage borrow, + For such shade is meetest; + Scatter wreaths, which youth shall dew with tears of sorrow, + For youth’s tears are sweetest. + + All is gloomy round--the gale, while it reposes, + Drops its tone of gladness: + And some shadowy ghost strips all the budding roses-- + ’Tis the shrine of sadness. + + Hymen lingers here--pale, fetter’d, chill’d, despairing, + Bent by grief undying: + See his folded arms, bent eyes--his torch, yet flaring, + On the grave is lying. + + +THE FAREWELL. + + Bent o’er his sabre, torrents starting + From his dim eyes, the bold hussar + Thus greets his cherish’d maid, while parting + For distant fields of war: + + ‘Weep not, my fair one! O forbear thee! + No anguish can those tears remove; + For, by my troth and beard, I swear thee, + Time shall not change my love. + + ‘That love shall bloom--a deathless blossom, + My shield in fight--with sword in hand, + And thou, my Lila, in my bosom, + What shall that sword withstand? + + ‘Weep not, my fair one! O forbear thee! + Those tears can bid no grief depart; + And were I faithless, Maid! I swear thee, + Anguish would tear my heart! + + ‘Then my good steed would sure betray me, + And falter in the battle-fray, + In peril’s hours refuse t’ obey me-- + My stirrup would give way. + + ‘The sword, my valour’s proudest token, + When grasp’d, like rotten wood would break; + And I should seek thee, spirit-broken, + Death’s paleness on my cheek.’ + + But the false horseman’s steed obey’d him, + Gentle and eager still;--his sword, + Bright and unbroken, ne’er betray’d him, + Though he broke oath and word. + + The tale of love--the tears which shower’d + From Lila’s eye--were all forgot; + The rose-wreath faded--pale--deflower’d:-- + Such buds re-blossom not! + + That maiden’s breast of peace he rifles; + Then hies him to another’s breast; + Man’s oaths to woman are but--trifles; + And love itself--a jest. + + He serves--secures--and then he slights them; + His vows are change--and treachery; + For laughing Cupid’s arrow writes them + Upon the shifting sea. + + +THE FRIEND’S SHADOW. + + _Sunt aliquid manes; letum non omnia finit; + Luridaque evictos effugit umbra rogos._ + PROPERTIUS. + + To Albion’s misty isle across the waves I sped me: + It look’d as if interr’d beneath a leaden sea, + And gathering round our bark the halcyon’s music led me, + While all the crew rejoiced in their sweet melody. + The dancing surge, the evening breezes falling, + And through the sails and shrouds those breezes whistling thrill, + And to the watch the active helmsman calling, + The watch, who, midst the roar, sleeps tranquilly and still. + All seem’d to rock itself to gentle thought; + Like an enchanted one, I, from the mast, look’d forth, + And through the night and through the mist I sought, + I sought the star beloved of my domestic north. + Then into memory melted every feeling-- + My soul had sanctified my home of joy and peace, + And the sea raging, and the zephyrs gently stealing, + Cover’d my eyelids o’er with self-forgetfulness. + Then dreams with other dreams were blended, + And lo! there stood--was it a dream?--the form + Of that dear friend who his career had ended + Nobly, amidst the thundering battle storm. + He stood upon the mist, and smiled--his face, + Fresh as the morn and bloodless, shining + Like the young spring in gaiety and grace, + Even as an angel from high heaven declining:-- + ‘Comrade of better time! and is it thou? + And is it thou?’ I cried, ‘thou hero bright! + Did I not in the fury of the fight + Attend thee--and when thou hadst fallen below + Make thy new grave--and on a neighbouring tree + Write with my sword thy feats of bravery, + And follow’d thy cold ashes to their bed, + And hallow’d it with prayers, and with tears watered? + Speak, unforgotten one! speak! was it a deceit? + Is all that’s past a dream--a cheating dream? + A dream that corpse--a dream that grave--that sheet + Wrapt round thee--were they not--did they but _seem_? + O but one word! let that tongue’s melody + Yet sweetly fall on my transported ear: + O unforgotten one! stretch out to me + Thy old right hand of friendship--stretch it here.’ + I sprung towards him--Oh! the mists had dimm’d my eye-- + He vanish’d like a shade--a lock of airy smoke-- + Dispersed in the wide azure of the sky, + And I, arousing from my dream, awoke. + Beneath the wing of stillness all was sleeping; + The very winds--the very waves, at rest; + And scarce a breath upon the sea was creeping; + The pale moon swam along upon the white cloud’s breast. + But I was troubled--peace had left my soul-- + I stretch’d my hands tow’rds him, whom I no more could see-- + I called on him--whom I could not control-- + On thee--belov’d one! best of friends! on thee! + + +LOVE IN A BOAT. + + ’Tis a calm and silent even, + Luna rests upon the sea; + See! the impelling breeze has driven, + Driven a little bark to me. + + What a lovely child is seated + At the helm--a trembling child! + ‘Thou wilt perish, boy ill-fated! + Whelm’d among the surges wild.’ + + ‘Help me! help me! gentle stranger! + All my strength, alas! is gone: + Take the helm--conduct the ranger + To some harbour of thy own.’ + + Pity’s warmth, that never freezes, + Bid me seize the helm:--we sped, + Wafted by awakening breezes, + As by feather’d arrows led. + + Swiftly, swiftly then we glided + By the flowery shores along; + Reach’d a spot where joy presided, + Smiling nymphs, and dance and song. + + Music welcomed us and laughter, + Garlands at our feet were thrown; + Then I look’d my wanderer after-- + I was left--the bark was gone. + + On the stormy shore I laid me, + Careless of the surge’s spray; + Sought the child who had betray’d me, + Saw him laugh--and row away. + + Lo! he beckons--lo! he urges-- + Through the noisy waves I fly: + Off he speeds across the surges, + Laughing out with louder joy. + + Wet and weary, I retreated + To the scene of revelry:-- + ’Twas a fairy dream that cheated-- + All was blank obscurity. + + Wanderer! if that boat should ever + Meet thy vision, O be coy! + ’Tis delusive--trust him never-- + Cupid is a wicked boy. + + +THE PRISONER. + + There, where the swift Rhone’s waters flow + Its verdant banks between; + Where fragrant myrtles bending grow, + And Rhone reflects their green; + There, where the vineyards deck the hills, + And o’er the valleys spread, + Which golden citrons’ fragrance fills, + And plantains rear their head-- + + There stood, as sunk the lord of day, + Upon the smiling shore, + One who long watch’d the waters play, + And thought his sorrows o’er; + A Russian hero--stolen by war, + The honour of the Don; + Divided from his friends afar, + He wander’d there alone. + + ‘O roll!’ he sang, ‘ye waters roll-- + Flow in your glory on; + Your waves shall waken on my soul + The memory of the Don. + My days pass by without an aim, + Amidst life’s busy roar; + For what is life without its fame, + Or the bright world?--’tis poor. + + ‘Now nature wears its spring-tide dress, + The sun shines splendidly; + All liberty and loveliness-- + O! why am I not free? + O roll, ye waters! rage, thou Rhone! + And waken, as ye roll, + The thoughts of my domestic zone + Within my troubled soul. + + ‘The maidens here are fair and bright, + Their glance is full of fire; + And their all-graceful smiles of light + Might satisfy desire. + But what is love in foreign lands, + Or joy?--I only know + The joy and love that bless our sands, + Midst forests and midst snow. + + ‘Give me my freedom--let me tread + Once more my country’s strand; + With frost and storm all overspread-- + My home--my father-land! + Deep is the snow around my door; + But give me my own steed, + And day and night, the mountains o’er, + Me to my home he’ll lead. + + ‘At home, there’s one who sits and keeps + The memory of her love; + And often to the window creeps, + And pours her prayers above. + She guards the thoughts of him whose mind + Guards every thought of her; + She pats the horse I left behind-- + How privileged to be there! + + ‘O roll, thou Rhone! ye waters roll-- + Rush in your glory on; + Your waves still waken in my soul + The memory of the Don. + Come, winds! come hither from the north, + Come, in your freshness, come: + And thou bright pole-star blazen forth, + Memento of my home!’ + + So spake the prisoner, as he turn’d + To Lyons his tired eye, + When long in exile’s chains he mourn’d + His hapless destiny. + He sang--the Rhone roll’d proudly on, + The moon oft kiss’d its tide; + And oft on Lyons’ turrets shone + The sun in all his pride. + + +TO THE RHINE. + +FRAGMENT. + + Here, in the misty days of time departed, + The ranks of bards oft tuned their solemn hymn; + Teutonic minstrels sang--gay--eager-hearted-- + Still’d is their music now--their light is dim. + Thy waves roll on--they roll as then-- + Their proud, untired, untroubled way-- + Eternal is thy course--while men, + Unlike thy waves--decline--decay. + + + + +MERSLAKOV. + + +ON THE DESTRUCTION OF BABYLON. + +ISAIAH XIV. 5-28. + + ’Tis over--she exists no more-- + The terror of the bad and good + Is fallen--an awful solitude + Spreads all her insolent trophies o’er. + Her crumbling ruins are in dust: + The Almighty, in his anger just, + Has scatter’d all her glories: He-- + The Lord--hath riven the heavy yoke-- + He hath th’ accursed sceptre broke, + And given his people liberty. + + Thus did the Lord--the Lord of might! + His day of wrath for us is past; + The smiter he hath smitten at last, + And beam’d on us his smile of light. + Joy round his Israel’s tents has sped, + And grateful Lebanon bows his head, + And joins with ours his song of praise: + The heavenly cedars from on high + Bending--‘And thou art razed,’ they cry, + ‘And we have seen thy dying blaze.’ + + Destruction now, in robes of night, + Hath veil’d thy fading rays in gloom; + Strange shadows round thee take their flight, + As on the storm the surges’ foam. + The empress of a hundred states-- + The city of the thousand gates-- + Her glory in the dust is laid. + ‘What! thou who wert a god in pride, + ‘Is this thy fate--so magnified, + ‘And so defenceless--so decay’d?’ + + Where is thy pride, thy pageantry? + Where is thy glory, humbled thing? + O bid thy choral voices sing + The triumphs of thy vanity! + No! all is still--for, like a shade, + The idle tones of flattery fade; + And music’s charms--a shifting play. + Murd’ress! how baseless was thy trust! + Thy house is night, thy bed the dust, + Thy covering--crawling worms of clay. + + There was a light from heaven that shone, + Dazzling all visions with its ray: + It shone in glory yesterday-- + This morn it glanced--but now ’tis gone. + Then, thine was an imperial will-- + Now, as the grave, thy voice is still. + Thou saidst, in insolent pride, ‘My throne + ‘I’ll build upon the highest star-- + ‘Ride on the rolling clouds afar, + ‘And this proud Zion trample down. + + ‘My car the glorious sky shall sweep, + ‘My towers the very heavens shall reach, + ‘Obedience to the gods to teach:’ + And now--thou art a ruin’d heap. + The pilgrim who shall seek thee there, + Will only find a wild-beast’s lair + In a vast desert: he shall stand + Trembling before the God of heaven, + And pray his sins may be forgiven, + And hide his pale cheek in his hand. + + Was this the city that we fear’d, + This she whose fetter-bearing hands + Enslaved, insulted countless lands, + While misery in her train appear’d? + Who shall resist death’s mighty claim? + Who shall oppose the good man’s fame? + His sons shall watch his gen’rous fires, + And he shall live in memory’s store, + In the wet eyelids of the poor, + Until he sleeps where sleep his sires. + + Thou’rt stretch’d upon the battle-plain, + And shame and misery hem thee round; + Indignant voices curse the ground + Where thou once rear’dst thy trophies vain. + Thou, the destroyer of thy sons! + Thou, thy own people’s murderer once! + Now liest beneath th’ unwholesome dew-- + A peaceful grave is now denied thee. + The God of vengeance stands beside thee, + Thy children’s children to pursue. + + Now rise, in all thy fury rise, + Sprout of the fallen accursed race; + New threats of slavery I trace-- + Another plague towards us flies. + No! God hath said: ‘My strength shall wake, + And in the storm and thunder speak, + And sweep the daring hordes away; + Their towns the tygers’ haunts shall be, + Their lands--the cradle of the sea, + And all their memory shall decay.’ + + He spake--and as He spoke ’twas done: + The mandate of Thy heavenly will + To utter, Lord! is to fulfil; + For art Thou not th’ Almighty One? + Thou hast subdued their tyranny, + Broken our bonds of slavery; + Hast waved Thy fearful, fiery rod: + And who shall check Thy awful hand? + Who shall Thy thunderbolt withstand? + Who battle with a battling God? + + + + +VOEIKOV. + + +TO MY FUTURE BRIDE. + + O unknown being! thou whom long my soul has sought, + Vision of fancy bright, thou mild and lovely queen! + Thou, vainly, long, pursued by my impatient thought, + Thou pure divinity unseen! + + O tell me in what mist thou veil’st thy shadowy form! + O tell me where thy steps have left their wonted trace! + For in hope’s sunshine hour, and in grief’s frowning storm, + I feel thou art my resting place. + + When I my civic post, or social circle fill, + And with th’ infirm and poor my narrow portion share, + The widows’ sorrows soothe, the orphans’ murmuring still, + I know, sweet spirit! thou art there. + + When fancy takes her flight beyond terrestrial things, + And towers above all space, and leaves behind all time; + And up to holiest stars of thought’s creation springs, + Thou art her brightest dream sublime. + + Once, in the moonlight’s shade, I saw thee, angel! stand, + (Bent o’er a marble urn, whose waters gently swell’d) + Clad in celestial white, bound with an azure band, + A heavenly lyre thy fingers held. + + And once, amidst a crowd, bright tears hung on thine eye, + Thy head sunk on thy breast, devotion seem’d t’ engross + Thy thoughts, and kneeling, thou pray’dst heaven in ecstasy, + Pressing the consecrated cross. + + I saw thee, angel-like, through yonder temple glide, + Scattering thy light around like some ray-crested saint, + Whispering sweet notes of peace, in the still eventide, + To many a pilgrim tired and faint. + + I love to paint thee when thy bounty’s generous store + Soothes the gray beggar’s wants, and comforts the distrest, + Anoints the sick with oil, provides with bread the poor, + And for the houseless finds a rest. + + And O! how blest, to dream that thou may’st yet be mine, + A very dove of peace, around my steps to hie, + Waking from thy sweet lyre a melody divine, + Gay as a summer butterfly. + + And when upon the wave, midst twilight’s peaceful gleam, + I launch my little bark, wilt thou sit smiling by, + And with thy lovely hand conduct it o’er the stream, + And rule my blessed destiny; + + And listen to my tale of fond and passionate love: + Not, like a ghost, as now, but holding in thy hand + A golden lamp; nor e’er seek thy own shrine above, + But throw aside thy misty band. + + My guardian spirit, hail! unveil thee in thy bloom, + For thou art lovelier far than feeble poet’s art; + Come in thy virtues now--in all thy glory come, + And fill the vacuum of my heart. + + + + +MURAVIEV. + + +TO THE GODDESS OF THE NEVA. + + Glide, majestic Neva! glide thee, + Deck’d with bright and peaceful smiles; + Palaces are raised beside thee, + Midst the shadows of the isles. + + Stormy Russian seas thou bindest + With the ocean--by the grave + Of our glorious Tzar thou windest, + Which thy grateful waters lave. + + And the middle-ocean’s surges + All thy smiling naiads court; + While thy stream to Paros urges, + And to Lemnos’ classic port. + + Hellas’ streams, their glory shaded, + See the brightest memories fade; + Glassy mirrors--how degraded! + Dimmed by Kislar Aga’s shade. + + While thy happier face is bearing + Ever-smiling images, + On thy busy banks appearing + Crowds in gaiety and peace. + + Thames’ and Tagus’ gathering prizes, + Spread their riches o’er thy breast, + While thy well-known banner rises, + Rises proudly o’er the rest. + + In thy baths what beauties bathe them, + Goddesses of love and light; + There Erota loves to swathe them + In the brightest robes of night. + + Cool thy smiling banks at even, + Cool thy grottos and thy cells, + Where, by gentle breezes driven, + Oft the dancing billow swells. + + Then thou gatherest vapours round thee, + Veil’st thee in thy twilight dress; + Love and Mirth have now unbound thee-- + Yield thee to thy waywardness. + + Thou dost bear the dying over, + Weary of his earthly dream[1]; + And with awful mists dost cover + All the bosom of the stream. + + With thy car thou troublest never + The calm silence of the deep; + Syrens dance around thee ever, + Laughing o’er thy quiet sleep. + + Peaceful goddess! oft the singer + Sees thee, in his ecstasy, + On the rock he loves to linger, + Sleepless--then he meets with thee. + + +BOLESLAV, + +KING OF POLAND. + + Fame and glory’s feeble embers + Fade o’er many a hero brave; + But the faithful Pole remembers + The good prince--King Boleslav. + + True to love, though purple-girded-- + True to friendship, though a king; + In his inner soul there herded + Thoughts for ever festering. + + He was happy--but two brothers + Saw with dark and secret hate + Their proud father-land another’s-- + They aspired to rule the state. + + They were loved--the king delighted + All his love to pour on them; + But a maiden’s faith was plighted, + And he saw the promised gem. + + As the lily, courted only + By the breezes of the wood; + So Volhynia’s princess lonely, + Shrouded her in solitude. + + Sbignei saw--and loved--communion + Of affections swiftly grew: + They were sworn to holy union, + Sworn to Hymen’s pledges true. + + List!--the trumpets call the forces; + See the dust clouds on the fields; + Hark!--the impatient neigh of horses-- + ‘To the fight!’--and Sbignei yields. + + To the town the monarch drew him, + Not in pride of victory;-- + Saw the princess--and he threw him + Bending at the lady’s knee. + + Tears adown her cheeks were flowing, + And in agony she cried: + ‘Whither is my Sbignei going? + O desert me not--thy bride!’ + + Yet two moons had told their story-- + Sick with love is Boleslav; + He forgot his martial glory, + And his army true and brave. + + Sbignei now all truce hath broken, + His Bohemian troops he calls; + See his rebel standard-token + Marching on Volhynia’s walls. + + ’Tis in vain--he is forsaken-- + The Bohemian bands have fled; + He himself a prisoner taken-- + But his vizor veils his head. + + See!--the jealous king espies him + Sleeping on Volhynia’s knee-- + Draws his dagger and destroys him-- + ’Twas his brother!--’twas not he! + + Who shall tell the murderer’s madness-- + Who shall paint his deathlike look? + There he stood, in grief and sadness, + Staggering--starting--thunderstruck. + + Fain his steel he would have buried + In his tortur’d throbbing breast; + But th’ attendant courtiers hurried, + From his hand that steel to wrest. + + Then he left his kingly palace, + All he left--except his woe; + To the spot that Calvary hallows, + Pilgrim-like he vow’d to go. + + Every city where he wander’d + Heard his crime, and heard his prayers: + O’er his wretched fate he ponder’d, + Asking pardon even with tears. + + Be he pardon’d!--his repentance-- + May it bring his soul relief: + Mournful is man’s earthly sentence, + Glory is no shield from grief. + + * * * * * + + She bent her head, and the tears that fell + Were veil’d as there were shame in tears: + Her lips were closed, but a low ‘farewell’ + Had glided from those lips of hers. + + The pale moon shone, and she raised her eye, + It sparkled in the heavenly ray-- + A smile awoke, and the tear was dry-- + And the maiden sped her on her way. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] The burying-place at Petersburg is on the other side of the Neva. + + + + +KAPNIST. + + +ON JULIA’S DEATH. + + The evening darkness shrouds + The slumbering world in peace, + And from her throne of clouds + Shines Luna through the trees. + My thoughts in silence blend, + But gather’d all to thee: + Thou moon! the mourner’s friend, + O come! and mourn with me. + + Upon her grave I bow, + The green grave where she lies: + O hear my sorrows now, + And consecrate my sighs! + This is her ashes’ bed-- + Here her cold relics sleep-- + Where I my tears shall shed + While this torn heart can weep. + + O Julia! never rose + Had half the charms of thee-- + My comfort--my repose-- + O! thou wert all to me. + But thou art gone--and I + Must bear life’s load of clay-- + And pray--and long to die-- + Though dying day by day. + + But I must cease to sing, + My lyre all mute appears-- + Alas! its plaintive string + Is wetted with my tears. + O! misery’s song must end-- + My thoughts all fly to thee:-- + Thou moon! the mourner’s friend, + O come and mourn with me! + + + + +PETROV. + + +ON THE + +VICTORY OF THE RUSSIAN OVER THE TURKISH FLEET. + + O triumph! O delight! O time so rich in fame + Unclouded, bright and pure as the sun’s mid-day flame! + Ruthenia’s strength goes forth--see from the sea emerge + The Typhons of the north--the lightning, in its might, + Flashes in dazzling light, + And subject is the surge. + + They wander o’er the waves--their eye impatiently + Seeks where the Moslem’s flag flaunts proudly o’er the sea-- + ’Tis there!--’tis there! exclaim the brave impatient crowd-- + The sails unfurl’d--each soul with rage and courage burns-- + Each to the combat turns-- + They meet--it thunders loud! + + I see from Ætna’s rocks a floating army throng: + A hero, yet unsung, wafts the proud choir along-- + The masts, a fir tree wood--the sails, like outspread wings. + List! to the shoutings--see! the flash--they thunder near. + Earthquakes and night are there-- + With storms the welkin rings. + + There _January_ speeds--there _Svætoslav_ moves on, + And waves and smoke alike are into tempest thrown; + And there the ship that bears the three-times hallow’d name[1], + And _Rotislav_ and _Europe_, there triumphant ride; + While the agitated tide + Is startled with the flame. + + Eustav, in fire conceal’d, scatters the death-like brand, + And earth and heaven are moved, and tremble sea and land; + And there, a mountain pile, sends round the deeds of death, + As if Vesuvius’ self in combat were engaged-- + While other mountains raged, + And pour’d their flaming breath. + + The roar, the whiz, the hum, in one commingling sound, + The clouds of smoke that rise, and spread and roll around; + The waves attack the sky in wild and phrenzied dance; + The sails are white as snow; and now the sun looks on, + Now shrouds him on his throne-- + And the swift lightnings glance. + + Hard proof of valour this--the spirit’s fiery test: + Fierce combat--grown more fierce--bear high the burning breast! + See, on the waves there ride two mountains, fiery-bound, + Ætna and Hecla, loose on ocean’s heaving bed-- + The burning torches spread, + And ruin stalks around. + + Ocean, and shore, and air, rush backward at the sight, + The Greek and Turk stand still, and groan in wild affright; + Calm as a rock the Russ is welcoming death with death; + But ah! destruction now blazes its fiery links, + And even victory sinks + Its heavy weight beneath. + + O frightful tragedy!--a furnace is the sea-- + The triumph ours--the flames have reach’d the enemy: + He burns--he dies in smoke--beneath the struggle rude + The northern heroes sink, with weariness opprest, + And ask a moment’s rest, + As if they were subdued. + + And whence that threatening cloud that hangs upon their head? + That threatens now to burst--What! is their leader dead? + And is he borne away, who all our bosoms warm’d? + He fell--there lies his sword--there lie his shield and helm-- + What sorrows o’erwhelm + The conqueror disarm’d! + + O no! he wakes again from night--he waves his hand, + Beckoning to the brave ranks that, mourning, round him stand: + ‘My brother!’ cried he--‘Heaven! and is my brother gone?-- + Their sails unfurl--My friends! O see! O see! they fly-- + On--“Death or vengeance!” cry, + On, on to Stambul’s throne!’ + + He fled--O hero! peace! there is no cause for grief, + He lives--thy brother lives, and Spiridov, his chief: + No dolphin saved them there--it was the Almighty God, + The God who sees thy deeds, thy valour who approves, + And tries the men he loves + With his afflictive rod. + + The dreadful dream is past--past like a mist away, + And dawns, serene and bright, a cloudless victory day: + The trump of shadeless joy--the trump of triumph speaks; + The hero and his friend are met, and fled their fears; + They kiss each others cheeks, + They water them with tears. + + They cried ‘And is our fame, and is our glory stain’d? + God is our shield--revenge and victory shall be gain’d-- + We live--and Mahmoud’s might a hundred times shall fall; + We live--the astonish’d world our hero-deeds shall see. + And every victory + A burning fleet recall. + + Whence this unusual glare o’er midnight’s ocean spread: + At what unwonted hour has Phœbus left his bed? + No! they are Russian crowds who struggle with the foe, + ’Tis their accordant torch that flashes through the night. + Sequana! see the might + Of Stambul sink below. + + The harbour teems with life, an amphitheatre + Of sulphurous pitch and smoke, and awful noises there; + The fiends of hell are loose, the sea has oped its caves, + Fate rides upon the deep, and laughs amidst the fray, + Which feeds with human prey + The monsters of the waves. + + See, like a furnace boils and steams the burning flood, + ’Tis fill’d with mortal flesh, ’tis red with mortal blood, + Devour’d by raging flames, drunk by the thirsty wave, + The clouds seem palpable--a thick and solid mass-- + They sink like stone or brass + Into their water-grave. + + Thou ruler of the tomb!--Dread hour of suffering, + When all the elements----Drop, Muse! thy feeble wing! + Hell, with its fiends--and all the fiends that man e’er drew + There mingled--Silence veil that awful memory o’er! + I see the hero pour + The tears of pity too! + + O Peter! great in song, as great in glory once, + Look from thy throne sublime upon thy Russia’s sons: + See, how thy fleets have won the palm of victory, + And hear the triumph sound, even to the gate of heaven-- + The Turkish strength is riven + Even in the Turkish sea. + + Thee, Copenhagen saw--the Neptune of the Belt; + Now Cherma’s humbled sons before thy flag have knelt. + The helpless Greeks have fled--thy banner sees their shore, + Trembling they look around, while thy dread thunder swells, + And shakes the Dardanelles, + And Smyrna hears its roar. + + Gallicians! fear ye not the now advancing flame, + Recording, as it flies, your own, your country’s shame? + In the dark days of old, your valiant fathers trod + In the brave steps of Rome, towards lands of southern glow; + Ye fight with Russians now, + Beneath the Moslems’ rod. + + Where innocence is found--there, there protection wakes; + Where Catherine’s voice is heard--there truth, there justice speaks: + A ruler’s virtues are the strength and pride of states, + And surely ours shall bloom where Catherine’s virtues stand. + O enviable land! + Glory is at our gates. + + Soar, eagle! soar again, spring upward to the height, + For yet the Turkish flag is flaunting in the light: + In Cherma’s port it still erects its insolent head, + And thou must pour again thy foes’ blood o’er the sea, + And crush their treachery, + And wide destruction spread! + + But fame now summons thee from death to life again, + The people’s comfort now, their glory to maintain; + The hero’s palm is won.--Now turn thee and enhance + The hero’s triumphs with the patriot’s milder fame. + O Romans! without shame + On Duil’s spoils we glance. + + We’ll consecrate to thee a towering marble dome! + From yonder southern sea, O bring thy trophies home, + Bring Scio’s trophies home,--those trophies still shall be + Thy glory, Orlov, thine!--the records of thy deeds, + When future valour reads + Astrea’s victory! + + O could my waken’d muse a worthy offering bring, + O could my grateful lyre a song of glory sing, + O could I steal from thee the high and towering thought, + With thy proud name the world, the listening world I’d fill; + And Camoens’ harp be still, + And Gama be forgot! + + Thine was a nobler far than Jason’s enterprise, + Whose name shines like a star in history’s glorious skies: + He bore in triumph home the rich, the golden fleece; + But with thy valour thou, and with thy conquering band, + Hast saved thy father land, + And given to Hellas peace. + + But O! my tongue is weak to celebrate thy glory, + Thy valiant deeds shall live in everlasting story, + For public gratitude thy name will e’er enshrine-- + Who loves his country, who his empress loves, will throw + His garland on thy brow, + And watch that fame of thine. + + But when thou humbledst low the Moslem’s pride and scorn, + And badest her crescent sink, her vain and feeble horn, + And pass’dst the Belt again, with songs and hymns of joy, + Who that perceived thy flag, in all its mightiness, + What Russian could repress + The tears that dimm’d his eye? + + I see the people rush to welcome thee again, + Thy ships, with trophies deep, upon the swelling main; + I see the maidens haste, the aged, and the young, + The children wave their hands, and to their fathers turn, + And thousand questions burn + On their inquiring tongue. + + “Is this the eagle proud of whom we have been told, + Who led against the Turks the Russian heroes bold, + And with their warriors” blood the azure ocean dyed? + Is this our Orlov--this, with eagle’s heart and name[2], + His foe’s reproach and shame, + And Russia’s strength and pride?’ + + O yes! O yes! ’tis he--The eagle there appears, + And ocean bears him on, as proud of him she bears: + And see his brother too, who led to victory, there-- + And Spirodov, whose praise all ages shall renew, + And Greig and Ilijn too-- + The heroes--without fear. + + But--wherefore do I rest--what fancies lead me on? + The glorious eagle now to Asia’s coasts is flown, + O’er streams, and hills, and vales, he takes his course sublime, + My eye in vain pursues his all-subduing flight. + O vision of delight! + O victory-girded time! + + And heaven, and earth, and sea have seen our victories won, + And echo with the deeds that Catherine has done; + The Baltic coasts in vain oppose the march of Paul, + Not the vast north alone, but all th’ Ægean sea + Shall own his sovereignty, + And the whole earthly ball! + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] The Trinity. + +[2] _Orel_ is the Russian for eagle. _Orlov_, inflection of the noun. + + + + +SHATROV. + + +TO THE ARMY OF THE DON. + + Moskva is stunn’d with the thunder-storm’s rattle: + See! for the Don has sprung over its banks, + Arm’d ’gainst the foe in fury and battle, + Crowd to the ranks! + Arm for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + Trump of the Tzar! which to triumph calls loudly-- + Spirits of Moskva!--ye warriors away! + Thousand times thousand arrange themselves proudly, + Ripe for the fray. + Arm’d for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + ‘Strive against God and our Russia shall no men,’ + Ataman cried, while he brandish’d his spear, + ‘Scatter’d like ashes, they perish--our foemen, + Where are they--where?’ + Arm for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + Fame-circled monarch! like waterfalls gushing + Down from the rocks, see thy children advance + On the false foe, in their energy rushing, + Sabre and lance! + Arm’d for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + Russians shall make them a pathway victorious; + Russians shall conquer from Neva to Rhine; + Armies shall fly at their enterprise glorious; + Triumph is thine. + Arm’d for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + Russia! O fear not! no foe shall assemble + Near thee--they shrink from the cross-flag ador’d. + Lo! at thy slings and thy sabres they tremble-- + Ready thy sword! + Arm’d for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + Yes! let thy enemy rage--let him hector-- + Strong though he be, he shall fly from the field. + Is not the mother of God our protector-- + Michael our shield? + Arm’d for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + Ready!--to horse!--for the cannon shouts call our + Heroes to struggle for hopes so sublime! + God himself smiles on the high deeds of valour!-- + Children, ’tis time! + Arm for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + Rush on the Franks--as pyramids steady-- + Say, shall they enter the heart of our land? + No! for our heroes are gathering all ready; + Firmly they stand, + Arm’d for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + See! for our legions are wildly advancing, + Bonaparte flies from the Sons of the Don; + Dull is the fame that so brightly was glancing-- + France is o’erthrown. + Arm for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + Arrows like hailstones are clattering around us, + Sabres and spear-heads shine bright in the breeze, + And the swift bullets seem whispering--they sound as + Swarming of bees. + Arm’d for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + Three hundred thousand twice reckon’d oppose them + Vainly to Russia--’tis glory to see + How a small band of Cossāks overthrows them-- + Look how they flee. + Arm for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + Cannons and muskets abandon’d--and duty + Forgotten--for death and for terror are nigh-- + Willingly yield they their knapsacks and booty, + Only to fly. + Arm for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + See how the raven is crouching, affrighted, + Where the proud eagle has built its own home; + Russia hath left them alarm’d and benighted-- + Russia their tomb. + Arm’d for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + So is the generous struggle rewarded; + So do the insolent enemy bleed; + So is the palace-crown’d, liberty-guarded + Capital freed. + Arm for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + Thanks to the Highest One! honour and glory-- + He has conducted us--saved is the throne! + Praise to the Tzar--and may garlands grow o’er ye, + Sons of the Don! + Arm’d for the right, + Strong in the fight! + + + + +VÆSEMSKY. + + +TO MY THREE ABSENT FRIENDS, ZH. B. AND S. + + My brothers! whither scatter’d now? + What fate--what cruel fate could sever + Hands--souls--fast-bound--divided never? + But ye are fled--and fled for ever, + And I am left alone with woe! + + The sigh I heave in silence here, + The careless zephyr bears away; + ’Tis lost in twilight’s darkening ray-- + ’Tis veil’d in night--it fades in day-- + It ne’er will reach your listening ear. + + Perchance even now, while round me roll + Dark storms and misty clouds--even now, + Pain’s icy sweat upon his brow, + One calls upon his friend--and oh! + Death’s wintry curtain wraps his soul. + + Then sleep in peace, thou spirit blest! + My spirit seems to cling to thee; + From sorrow--to felicity + Wafted--thy bark has pass’d the sea + Of storms--in joy’s calm port to rest. + + How long shall absence’ misery last? + When, when shall dawn the hour of meeting? + Shall ne’er again the blessed greeting + Of social bliss return?--How fleeting + Its rapture--’Tis for ever past! + + Cold--cold--I feel my heart;--delight + Can kindle ne’er its fire again-- + My tears flow forth--they flow in vain; + My smiles--no light those smiles retain; + For what awaked it sinks in night. + + Time was--how blessed to recall + That time--when our hands garlanded + The fairest wreaths of roses red, + And in youth’s spring the chorus led + To heaven--the source, the end of all. + + Time was--but like a dream it fled! + The hymn--’tis now a funeral dirge; + The garland--’tis affliction’s scourge; + The dance--its memories now emerge + Like ghosts, that wander midst the dead. + + And now the plaint ascends!--Appear, + Appear, delightful hours, anew! + Spirit of youth, so fond, so true, + Awake!--Suns, once so bright, so few, + Shine--let illusion’s mockery cheer! + + But see! the darkness creeps away-- + The clouds disperse--the storm is gone-- + Thy smile returns not--blessed one!-- + The mountains see the morning dawn-- + To me, alas! there dawns no day. + + +To N. N. + +ON THE DEATH OF HIS SON. + + As in the mid-day sun the flower + Looks brightest, and then bends its head, + So fell thy son--how short his hour + Of bliss--how rapidly he fled! + + Yet o’er his cradle--o’er his tomb, + An everlasting daylight shone; + A promise of bright days to come-- + Why came he--only to be gone? + + As mounts the incense to the skies, + A towering cloud--with cold, pale cheek + Thou saw’st him to his Maker rise, + And his own blessed country seek. + + He gave to thee his last, last sigh, + Ere yet he heaved his latest breath; + He turn’d to thee his dying eye, + Ere it was mantled o’er by death. + + Thou hadst indulged the sweetest dream + Which hope e’er built, or time decay’d; + And in the future’s distant beam + Thy son a friend, a brother made. + + The hours of youth’s delightful reign, + And rapture’s early, spring-tide joy; + Thou in his smiles hadst shared again, + And in thy boy wert twice a boy. + + That vision is departed--Sleep + Soon leaves the weary, mortal eye: + Go--with his funeral cypress--weep; + Thy spirit’s peace is slumbering nigh. + + With thine my mingling tears I’ll bring-- + Their bitterness he cannot know;-- + The morning-rose I’ll o’er him fling-- + He was a rose of morning too. + + +FRAGMENT. + + The waves of Seine have seen the banner, + The eagle-banner, floating high; + There do the winds of glory fan her, + While flap her pinions to the sky. + + Hers was a night of gloom--but morning + Has dawn’d on her triumphant flight; + And now, all fear and weakness scorning, + She soars to liberty and light. + + + + +MILONOV. + + +THE FALL OF THE LEAF. + + Th’ autumnal winds had stripp’d the field + Of all its foliage, all its green; + The winter’s harbinger had still’d + That soul of song which cheer’d the scene: + + With visage pale, and tottering gait, + As one who hears his parting knell, + I saw a youth disconsolate;-- + He came to breathe his last farewell. + + ‘Thou grove! how dark thy gloom to me, + Thy glories riven by autumn’s breath; + In every falling leaf I see + A threatening messenger of death. + + ‘O Æsculapius! in my ear + Thy melancholy warnings chime: + Fond youth! bethink thee, thou art here + A wanderer--for the last--last time. + + ‘Thy spring will winter’s gloom o’ershade, + Ere yet the fields are white with snow; + Ere yet the latest flow’rets fade, + Thou in thy grave wilt sleep below. + + ‘I hear a hollow murmuring, + The cold wind rolling o’er the plain-- + Alas! the brightest days of spring + How swift, how sorrowful, how vain! + + ‘O wave, ye dancing boughs, O wave! + Perchance to-morrow’s dawn may see + My mother weeping on my grave-- + Then consecrate my memory. + + ‘I see, with loose, dishevell’d hair, + Covering her snowy bosom, come + The angel of my childhood there, + To dew with tears my early tomb. + + ‘Then in the autumn’s silent eve, + With fluttering wing, and gentlest tread, + My spirit its calm bed shall leave, + And hover o’er the mourner’s head.’ + + Then he was silent--faint and slow + His steps retraced;--he came no more: + The last leaf trembled on the bough-- + And his last pang of grief was o’er. + + Beneath the aged oaks he sleeps;-- + The angel of his childhood there + No watch around his tombstone keeps. + But when the evening stars appear, + + The woodman, to his cottage bound, + Close to that grave is wont to tread; + But his rude footsteps, echo’d round, + Break not the silence of the dead. + + + + +MERSLÆKOV. + + +DUETT. + + FIRST VOICE. + + Thus the weeping shepherd spoke, + While his heart with anguish broke, + To the maiden of his bosom: + It can never be! + + I shall see thee smile no more; + Thou art rich, and I am poor: + Leave me--be serene and happy-- + To my misery! + + SECOND VOICE. + + Then the youthful shepherdess + Heaved a sigh for his distress, + Gently utter’d, calm and sorrowing, + It can never be? + + Thou art mine--for ever mine; + What though poverty be thine? + They who have love’s fount of riches + Know no poverty! + + FIRST VOICE. + + I am of unhonour’d line, + And the world alone--is mine: + How the proud, and how the noble + Will thy choice reprove! + + SECOND VOICE. + + Slander is their joy--they know + Nothing of affection’s glow: + Ancestry and pride I seek not-- + But I seek thy love! + + FIRST VOICE. + + Smiles and joy thy steps await:-- + Misery is at my gate: + Tears are bitter--but most bitter + Tears of penitence! + + SECOND VOICE. + + Unpartaken pleasure cloys, + But divided woes are joys; + Where our common tears are mingled + Grief will fly from thence! + + + FIRST VOICE. + + Corn-flowers and forget-me-not, + And narcissus, ne’er I sought; + Now I’ll seek the sweetest flow’rets + For my smiling fair! + + SECOND VOICE. + + Strange a shepherd’s life to me, + Yet a shepherdess I’ll be; + Though my father’s rich, I’ll braid thee + Garlands for thy hair! + + BOTH. + + Thou hast made life’s burthen lighter, + Every star and flower is brighter; + Now with thine my heart is blended, + Every thought and breath! + + Tears and sorrow, if they come, + Shall not wear the garb of gloom; + Life with thee is crown’d with beauty-- + Beautiful is death! + + + + +KHOVANSKY. + + +_Ya vechor v lugakh gulyala._ + + Through the silent evening hours, + Musing on my cares, I roved; + And amused me gathering flowers, + Forming wreaths for him I loved. + + Pensively I wander’d round, + Till the sun had left the plain; + Many and many a flower I found, + But _one_ flower I sought in vain. + + Through the solitary even + Every where that flower I sought; + ’Tis a flower as blue as heaven-- + ’Twas in vain--I found it not. + + Mournful I was homeward going, + When--a gentle rivulet nigh, + I espied that flow’ret growing-- + Which I pluck’d in ecstasy. + + Sweet Forget-me-not! elated, + Tears express’d my bursting thought, + And I sigh’d, and I repeated, + O my friend! Forget-me-not! + + Gold and glare to me are dim-- + He is dearer far than they; + They can add no charm to him-- + ‘Maid! I love thee!’ charmer, say! + + + + +NATIONAL SONGS. + + +I. + +_Ne golubūshka v’chīstom pōlæ vōrkuet._ + + O’er the meadow not a turtle speeds or flutters, + And the twilight no dew-drops scatters over: + In her chamber a young maiden her griefs utters, + As she thinks, drown’d in tears, of her lover: + Her bright eyes with bursting sorrow are loaded, + Her heart with disappointment has been goaded. + + ‘My beloved! my beloved! my heart’s master!’ + She cried, in her agony overflowing: + Her sighs thicken’d--her tears they hurried faster-- + ‘O some viper my bosom must be gnawing, + Some poison must my life-blood be congealing!-- + No! thy absence creates this bitter feeling. + + ‘’Tis no traitor, ’tis no false one who has left me, + No vile-minded, no polluted, no cold-hearted-- + How sad was the moment which bereft me-- + How bitter my sorrow when we parted! + When I lost thee all was darkness about me; + Life and death are indifferent without thee. + + ‘’Twas not violence fetter’d our affection; + ’Twas thy prudence, ’twas thy virtue, that enchain’d me-- + In thy bosom love and friendship found protection, + And the heart that was worthy of me gain’d me: + We are pledged not--we are sworn not--for brighter + Is the chain of sweet sympathy--and tighter. + + ‘Then return thee, my beloved! and forget not + Thou controllest all my joy and all my sorrow;-- + Think of me, my heart’s confidence! and let not + My thoughts any gloomier shadows borrow: + ’Tis for thee--’tis for thee _alone_--that I grieve me-- + Come again, thou sweet spirit! to relieve me.’[1] + + +II. + +_Osen blædnaya v polyakh._ + + Autumn’s robes are on the mead, + Colder blow the breezes cold; + Sadness fills the shepherd’s fold, + And the cheerful birds are fled. + All are fled--ye swains, draw near, + All your store of gladness bring: + Shepherds--shepherdesses--hear! + Gather round me while I sing. + Come--the shadowy thatch is o’er ye-- + Listen to my jealous story. + + Daphne, wandering, chanced to look + Towards the wood, and saw, alone, + Sporting, his beloved one, + Leaning on her pastoral crook; + Her light morning garments on-- + On her hand a wreath she held, + Playing with the early sun, + In the forest and the field: + O, it was a moment meet + For a lover’s heart to beat! + + Forward she--he sought the wood + Swiftly--not less swift she flew-- + Harder beat his bosom true-- + He was left in solitude. + Like a rein-deer she is gone, + Buried in the thickest shade. + ‘Heaven--and faithless, treacherous one! + ‘Do I dream?--No!--cruel maid! + ‘Some heart’s-robber waits thee there-- + ‘Wretched man!--deceitful fair!’ + + But he reach’d the wood at last, + And he hears the rustling boughs, + Hides him midst the leaves, and vows + That his eagle eye shall blast + All her joy--her shame unveil: + Then he put the boughs aside, + But, as tutor’d to conceal, + They rebound, dissatisfied; + And he stands, a senseless thing, + When he heard his maiden sing:-- + + (Gods of heaven! and fiends of hell! + Ye, who e’er a heart conferr’d-- + Ye, who e’er of passion heard-- + Thunder were less terrible.) + ‘Come,’ she said, ‘O come, my dear! + Come, thou brightest, sweetest, best! + Sport thee with this garland here, + Sleep upon my welcoming breast; + Dwell, my joy, my pride, with me, + And my heart shall dwell with thee.’ + + ‘Vile deceiver!--fallen to this!’ + And the forest echo’d round + Laughter, and the gentler sound + Of the love-conferring kiss. + Through the circling boughs he tears, + And, with fury-flashing eyes, + Met his maiden pale with fears, + And--upon her hand espies + A sweet bird that she caress’d, + And was fondling in her breast. + + Canst thou, canst thou then forgive + He who dared to doubt thy truth? + ‘No! forgiveness, erring youth! + Ne’er with doubting love can live.’ + So she spoke--his heart was broken, + Veil’d in grief and sunk in shame; + Tears, repentance’ bitter token, + Fell, but could not quench the flame: + So--for love the victory wins-- + She forgave him all his sins. + + +III. + +TO MARY. + + Noisy nightingale! be still, + Hear’st thou not the sweeter thrill + Of my Mary, + Of my fairy, + From the cottage? through the trees, + Born on breath of western breeze. + + As the skylark from her height, + Midst the dews of opening light, + Sweetly singeth; + Joy upspringeth + From the heart that song to hear-- + So I love thy voice, my dear! + + Turn I towards the window-seat-- + Give me one soft glance, my sweet! + Kind is Mary, + Kind my fairy, + Joyous as a summer’s day + In the mildest smile of May. + + Then her heart its folds unveils, + And she sings its secret tales: + Gently flowing, + Mildly glowing, + O how sweetly falls the strain! + O how fascinating then! + + When upon her harpsichord + Music leads the mournful word, + And the spirit + Sighs to hear it, + Led by her in willing chain-- + Who was ever like her then? + + Who?--two Marys cannot be. + Mary! life’s sweet witchery! + Mary! bless me, + And caress me: + Kings might envy, for thou art, + Mary! thou, my heart of heart. + + Peace!--she sighs--thou window fly + Open--let me drink her sigh: + Glowing, blushing, + Thither rushing, + Could I steal one rapturous kiss-- + Sing, sweet bird! thy song of bliss. + + +IV. + +_Akh! kabĭ na tzvætĭ ne Morosĭ._ + + If the frost nipp’d the flowrets no more, + If in winter the flowrets would bloom, + If the woes of my spirit were o’er, + My spirit should cast off its gloom: + I would sit with my sorrow no longer, + O’erwatching the dew-covered field. + I said to my father already, + Already I said to my taper[2], + ‘Nay! marry me not, O my father! + O marry me not to a proud one! + O seek not for high piles of riches, + O seek not for palaces fair, + ’Tis man, not his palace we dwell in, + ’Tis comfort, not riches, we need!’ + I hurried across the young grass, + I threw off my sable fur cloak, + Lest its rustling perchance might betray me, + Lest its buttons of metal might tinkle-- + Afraid my stepfather would hear me, + And say, ‘she is there,’ to his son-- + To his son--who is doom’d for my husband. + + +V. + +_Akh! kak toshno mnæ toshnen’ko._ + + O how gloomy has been to me + The year that speeds away, + But gloomier than all the rest to me + Gloomier than all--to-day! + I must forget my meat and drink, + And of my lover think. + I must no longer idly sleep, + But counsel seek, and keep. + Counsel--counsel must I seek, + And seek it from my lover. + Let us, let us now, my hope, + Let us live in love; + Live in love, while time runs over, + Were it but a year, + And that year will then appear + Like a little day. + Fain, my love, I’d live with thee, + But the wicked ones, + Even our next door neighbours watch + With a never-weary eye; + Every step they watch, + And to father and to mother + Tell most lying tales; + Such as that the youthful maiden + Woke at early hour, + Woke at early hour to watch her, + Watch her youthful friend; + And she stood upon the threshold + And her kerchief waved. + Truly, she did wave her kerchief + To invite her friend. + Turn again, my hopes! come hither, + Hither to my soul! + O thou com’st not!--tell me wherefore, + Wherefore art thou hidden? + Yes! they call thee, thou my treasure! + Thou wilt marry thee. + When thou hastenest to the altar, + Say farewell! to me. + Take away my woe and sorrow + From the luckless maid, + Bind her woe, and bind her sorrow + To thy horse’s mane. + Scatter all the maiden’s sorrow + O’er the flowerless field; + Spring there from the maiden’s sorrow, + Fairest grass and turf! + Grass and turf from maiden’s sorrow, + And the sweetest flowers; + All the flowers are brightly red-- + One more bright than all-- + One--yes, one is far more bright-- + O the bright red flower! + Many and many a friend I love, + One far more than all; + One is dearer than the rest-- + Loved one of my soul! + + +VI. + +_Tĭ vosnoi, vosnoi zhavoronochik._ + + Sing, O sing again, lovely lark of mine, + Sitting there alone amidst the green of May! + + In the prison-tower the lad sits mournfully, + To his father writes--to his mother writes: + Thus he wrote--and these--these were the very words: + ‘O good father mine--thou beloved sir! + O good mother mine--thou beloved dame! + Ransom me, I pray--ransom the good lad, + He is your beloved--is your only son!’ + Father--mother--both--both refused to hear, + Cursed their hapless race--cursed their hapless seed: + ‘Never did a thief our honest name disgrace-- + Highwayman or thief never stain’d the name.’ + + Sing, O sing again, lovely lark of mine, + Sitting there alone in the green of May! + + From the prison-tower thus the prisoner wrote, + Thus the prisoner wrote to his beloved maid: + ‘O thou soul of mine! O thou lovely maid! + Truest love of mine--sweetest love of mine! + Save--O save, I pray--save the prison’d lad!’ + Swiftly, then, exclaim’d that beloved maid: + ‘Come, attendant! come--come my faithful nurse-- + Servant faithful--you that long have faithful been, + Bring the golden key--bring the key with speed-- + Ope the treasure chests--open them in haste; + Golden treasures bring--bring them straight to me: + Ransom him, I say--ransom the good lad, + He is my beloved--of my heart beloved.’ + + Sing, O sing again, lovely lark of mine, + Sitting there alone amidst the green of May! + + +VII. + +_Na boskhodĭ krasna solnĭshka._ + + When the lovely sun is mounting high, + And the bright moon leaves the morning sky; + When no falcon floats upon the air, + By the river’s side a youth is seen-- + Ah! he totters--slowly moving there, + His faint eye glides o’er the gardens green, + While he holds sad converse with woe and care: + Then the little birds awake and greet + Bridegroom and bride, in raptures sweet + They flap their wings in ecstasy: + My turtle!--all--yes! all but thou, + Who slumberest in thy chamber now, + Nor sighest--nor sendst a thought to me-- + No! I am banish’d from her dreams-- + My memory now no longer gleams + In her heart--my soul’s bright hours are o’er-- + Nadesha will be mine no more! + + From her chamber then the maiden sped, + And grief was on her cheeks distrest; + And her eyes with sorrow’s tears were red, + Her arms hung down--she is not dead, + For no arrow has transfix’d her breast, + And no venomous snake has poison’d her: + He would speak--but he was forced to hear: + ‘Now fare thee well, thou loving one! + My soul!--my father’s best loved son! + Last eve I was affianced-- + Oh! and the guests to-morrow come: + They will lead me to God’s holy shrine, + Call me another’s--wretched doom! + Another’s----but for ever thine.’ + + +VIII. + +_Akh! daleche v chistom polæ._ + + + Alas! on that plane, distant meadow towers + A little tree, whose branches raise them high, + And neath those branches grows the emerald grass, + And o’er the grass full many a floweret blooms, + There many a floweret blooms as blue as heav’n. + And on those flowerets was a carpet spread, + And on that carpet sat two brothers lone, + Two lonely brothers, link’d in strongest love: + The elder brother waked the cymbal’s voice, + To which the younger’s sweetest hymns were join’d: + ‘Two sons, our mother gave us to the world, + Our father like two falcons rear’d his boys; + He rear’d and fed us--yet he taught us nought-- + But rear’d us on this wide and foreign land: + A wide and foreign land--the town unknown; + Wide foreign land--dry even without the wind-- + Dry without wind, and chilly without frost. + Our mother deem’d we never should get free, + But we have freed us in this happy hour, + And now, O mother! thou wilt find us not.’ + + +IX. + +_Tĭ dusha moya._ + + ‘O thou soul of mine, + Gentle maid divine! + Thou who didst possess + All this heart of mine, + Sit not, my love’s light! + Watching through the night: + Waxen taper now + Burn no more, I pray, + Wait me now no more + Till the break of day! + All our hope is over, + And betrothed thy lover; + And I came to ask + For thy last farewell, + And my gratitude + For past love to tell.’ + + Hardly had he spoken, + Hardly had he said-- + Sobbing--spirit-broken-- + Wept the lovely maid: + Melting into tears, + Trembling in her fears, + Firmly yet she cried: + ‘Give me, treacherous thing, + Give my golden ring: + Take the knife of steel + Which thou once hadst given, + Let its blade be driven + To my heart--and feel + How it burnt for thee, + While thou murderedst me!’ + + ‘Weep not, gentle maid! + Weep no more, I pray; + I shall often come, + Come from day to day: + I shall love thee more-- + Better--than before.’ + But she wept again, + Lovely maid!--she wept, + And her tearful eye + On the traitor kept. + Never is the sun + Brighter than in June: + Love can never see + Twice its burning noon. + + +X. + +_Perestan’ stonatæ Kukushechka._ + + Listen yet a while, thou cuckoo dear! + Call not, call not thou so sadly there! + For without thy notes my heart is torn, + Sicken’d, and dejected, and forlorn! + For the sun his lovely face has shrouded, + Frowning sits he in his palace clouded, + And the lovely maid is full of grief, + And that grief will never find an end-- + Never find an end--for how can she, + How can she forget her bosom’s friend? + Not an hour--not even a moment--he, + He is present at the dawn of day, + At the nightfall--eve--and morning’s ray. + O he left the lovely maiden--he + Left the maiden for a little week-- + For a week--but six months sped away-- + Six long months--’twas an eternity. + + +XI. + +_Chernovrovoi, chernoglazoi._ + + Hazel-eyebrow’d, hazel-eyed, + Thou audacious boy, + Why hast thou bewitch’d my heart, + And to grief betray’d? + Can the summer sun be cold, + Can the light be shade, + Can the heart exist on earth + Uninspired by love? + Does the sunshine cease to smile + When the floweret fades? + Is the heart untouch’d by love + When the heart is sad? + + ’Tis no lawless love that dwells + In my inner heart: + I will fly and seek my mate, + Like the bird in spring. + I will show him all his gifts, + Every kerchief sent; + He shall see those kerchiefs steam + With my burning tears! + On thy bosom dry them, dry + Those hot, burning tears; + Or commingle them with thine, + They will sweeter flow. + + Hear! on the damp hedge a noise, + Snow-clouds on the field-- + Stormy winds are gathering round, + Broken is the way. + Tarry in thy little cage, + O thou gentle bird, + Thou canst open not with tears + Yonder prison, dear! + Tell to thy affianced now + Some old tale of joy. + + Never alone should a lovely maid + Wander across the field; + Never the maiden’s wandering eye + Should the handsome swains pursue; + Never the maid should dare to love, + To love the handsome swain: + But the maid should watch her tender heart + With ever-present care. + + +XII. + +_Pover’kh dubchika._ + + On an oak there sate + A turtle with his mate-- + There in amorous meeting + One another greeting, + Each with flapping wing + All its joy repeating. + Swift a vulture sprung, + Eagle-eyed and young, + And he bore away + That poor turtle gray-- + That poor turtle gray, + With his ruby feet, + On the oak-tree wood + Spilt the turtle’s blood: + All the plumage soft + O’er the meadow driven; + All his down aloft + Borne by winds of heaven. + + O how desolate + Sat the mourning mate; + How she groan’d and sigh’d + While her turtle died. + ‘Weep not--why complain, + Little turtle, love?’ + Said the vulture then + To the widow’d dove, + ‘O’er the azure sea + I will bring to thee + Flocks of turtles, where + Thou shalt choose thy dear, + Choose thy lover sweet, + Choose the brightest, best, + With a fair gray breast, + And with ruby feet.’ + + ‘Fly not, murderous bird! + O’er the azure sea!’ + Thus the dove was heard + Answering mournfully: + ‘Bring no flocks to me + O’er the azure sea; + Can their presence be + Comfort to my breast? + Will they bring to me + The father of my nest?’ + + +XIII. + +_Tĭ prokodish’ dorogaja._ + + Ah! thou hurriest by the convent, + My beloved one! + Ah! the convent where the wretched monk + Lives despairing. + ’Twas by force he was conducted here, + And devoted! + O remove this hood, my dearest one, + O remove it! + Take away this frock, my fairest one, + I beseech thee. + Lay thy soft--O lay thy snowy hand + On my bosom; + Feel my heart--how my throbbing heart + Beats and trembles + With the flowing blood entangled, + Deeply sighing! + From thy countenance of gladness + Tears of sorrow + Drop! Come, contemplate with pity + My fate’s darkness; + I will ask not for forgiveness + Of my errors, + But that thou mayst love me--love me, + Thou, my angel! + + +THE END. + + + LONDON: + PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] The versification of the above song is so singular, and at first +sight involved, that I doubted if I ought to preserve it. It is not +without harmony, and, when the accent is caught, it will, I imagine, be +deemed musical. + + ˘ ˘ ¯ ¯, ˘ ˘ ¯ ¯, ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘, + ˘ ˘ ¯ ¯, ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ + + +[2] Taper burning before a saint. + + + + +_Just published_, + +BY THE SAME AUTHOR, + + MATINS AND VESPERS, + WITH + HYMNS AND OCCASIONAL DEVOTIONAL PIECES. + +PRICE 6_s._ + +PUBLISHED BY G. AND W. B. WHITTAKER, AVE-MARIA LANE; AND ROWLAND +HUNTER, ST. PAUL’S CHURCH-YARD. + + +ALSO, + + DETAILS + OF THE + ARREST, IMPRISONMENT, AND LIBERATION + OF + _AN ENGLISHMAN_, + BY THE BOURBON GOVERNMENT OF FRANCE. + +PRICE 4_s._ + + + + + WORKS + RECENTLY PUBLISHED + BY G. AND W. B. WHITTAKER, + _AVE-MARIA LANE_. + + +SPECIMENS of the RUSSIAN POETS. Translated by JOHN BOWRING, F.L.S., and +Honorary Member of several Foreign Societies: with Biographical and +Critical Notices. Second Edition, with Additions, 12mo. Vol. I. price +7s. boards. + + +An HISTORICAL REVIEW of the SPANISH REVOLUTION; including some Account +of Religion, Manners, and Literature in Spain. By EDWARD BLAQUIERE, +Esq. Author of “Letters from the Mediterranean,” &c.--In One thick +Volume, 8vo. illustrated with a Map, price 18s. boards. + + “It is impossible to peruse this volume without feelings of the most + affecting and irresistible nature. The proudest deed to which a human + being can aspire is to put his hand to such a work as this; and, in + the belief that Mr. Blaquiere’s labours are calculated materially to + promote its success, we congratulate him in the devotion of his time + and thoughts to so noble an object.”--_Monthly Mag. Sept. 1822._ + + “The affairs of the country to which Europe is indebted for its + liberation from the dominion of Napoleon, and the recent example of + political freedom, acquire every day an increased interest with all + liberal Englishmen. No complete account, however, of the _Spanish + Revolution_ was in possession of the public, till the above work of + Mr. Blaquiere made its appearance. It is written with much spirit and + animation, and a zeal for truth is one of its most characteristic + features.”--_Morning Chronicle, Sept. 13, 1822._ + + “A Work has just been published, entitled _An Historical Review + of the Spanish Revolution_. None can find fault with the author’s + selection of his subject; and he has executed his task in a manner + not unworthy of it. This book contains much and various information, + entirely new to the public.”--_British Press, Sept. 11, 1822._ + + “The Work before us affords ample proof that its author is possessed + of powers of research, and of acute observation. The limits and + nature of our work prevent our doing more than passing a favorable + judgment, and giving this general outline of the design and execution + of Mr. Blaquiere’s volume; but there is no class of readers who + can peruse the work without an acquisition of valuable knowledge, + or without its awakening a train of the most useful and pleasurable + reflections.”--_European Magazine, Nov. 1822._ + + “We certainly want such books as that now before us: we do not know + enough of the most interesting events of which it treats; at least, + we have seldom been called upon to look at them through so impartial + and national a medium as Mr. Blaquiere’s Review.”--_Literary + Register, Sept. 7, 1822._ + + “Mr. Blaquiere’s former productions have established for him an + honourable place in English literature; and the ardent spirit of + integrity, and love of right, which breathes through the present + pages, entitle him to considerable distinction as a philanthropist, + while their composition do him great credit as an author.”--_Paris + Monthly Review, Nov. 1822._ + + +ANECDOTES of the SPANISH and PORTUGUESE REVOLUTIONS. 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In Two Volumes, 12mo. price 15s. boards. + + + + +Transcriber’s Notes + + + ‣ Italics represented by surrounding _underscores_. + + ‣ Small caps converted to ALL CAPS. + + ‣ Footnotes renumbered consecutively within each chapter and moved to + the end of those respective chapters. + + ‣ Obvious typographic errors silently corrected. + + ‣ Variations in hypenation and spelling kept as in the original. + + ‣ Duplicate chapter titles omitted. + + ‣ The spellings of “Ostiak” and “Ostjak” from the original have been + standardized to the modern “Ostyak”. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78745 *** diff --git a/78745-h/78745-h.htm b/78745-h/78745-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eec4c0e --- /dev/null +++ b/78745-h/78745-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7064 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <meta name="format-detection" content="telephone=no,date=no,address=no,email=no,url=no"> + <title> + Specimens of the Russian poets, vol. 2 (of 2) | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; 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} + + +/* Poetry indents */ +.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3.0em;} +.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2.0em;} +.poetry .indent4 {text-indent: -1.0em;} +.poetry .indent6 {text-indent: 0.0em;} +.poetry .indent8 {text-indent: 1.0em;} +.poetry .indent10 {text-indent: 2.0em;} +.poetry .indent14 {text-indent: 4.0em;} +.poetry .indent20 {text-indent: 7.0em;} +.poetry .indent22 {text-indent: 8.0em;} + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowp50 {width: 50%;} + + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78745 ***</div> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp50" id="cover" style="max-width: 126.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="Book cover"> +</figure> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_i">[i]</span></p> + +<p class="center fs150">РОССІЙСКАЯ АНТОЛОГІЯ.</p> + +<hr class='r15'> + +<h1>SPECIMENS<br> +<span class='allsmcap'>OF THE</span><br> +RUSSIAN POETS,</h1> + +<p class="center allsmcap">WITH</p> +<p class='center mth'><i>INTRODUCTORY REMARKS</i>.</p> + +<p class="center mth">PART THE SECOND.</p> + +<div class='poetry-container'> +<div class='poetry'> +<div class='poetry stanza'> +<div class='verse indent0'><i>Вамъ, вамъ плетутъ Хариты</i></div> +<div class='verse indent0'><i>Безамертные вѣнцы!</i></div> +<div class='verse indent0'><i>Я вами здѣсь вкушаю</i></div> +<div class='verse indent0'><i>Восторги Піеридъ,</i></div> +<div class='verse indent0'><i>И въ радости взываю:</i></div> +<div class='verse indent0'><i>О Музы! я Піитъ!</i></div> +<p class='right'> +<span class="smcap">Батюшковъ</span></p> +</div></div></div> + + +<p class="center allsmcap">BY</p> + +<p class="center fs120 mth">JOHN BOWRING, F.L.S.</p> + +<p class="center allsmcap">AND HONORARY MEMBER OF SEVERAL FOREIGN +SOCIETIES.</p> + +<p class="center fs110 mt1">LONDON:</p> +<p class='center'>PRINTED FOR G. AND W. B. WHITTAKER,</p> +<p class='center allsmcap'>AVE-MARIA LANE.</p> + +<p class="center mtq">1823.</p> + + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ii">[ii]</span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class='center mt4 mb4'> + LONDON:<br> + <span class='allsmcap'>PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS.</span> +</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_iii">[iii]</span></p> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2> + <span class='fs70'>TO</span><br> + <span class='fs80'>HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY</span><br> + <span class='fs110'>ALEXANDER,</span><br> + <span class='fs80'>AUTOCRAT OF ALL THE RUSSIAS,</span><br> + <span class='fs70'><i>&c. &c. &c.</i></span> +</h2> +</div> + + +<p>The flattering mark of approbation with which +you were pleased to honour the former volume +of the Russian Anthology, induces me to inscribe +the name of your Majesty upon the dedication +page of this.</p> + +<p>When the delusions of conquest and the records +of political changes shall have passed +away, the purer and nobler triumphs of civilization +and literature will be remembered, and +bear along the stream of time, to the gratitude +of future generations, the names of their illustrious +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_iv">[iv]</span> +protectors. To have contributed to +their influence is a glory which no time can +tarnish—it is worthy of the worthiest—it will +be your highest title—a title brighter than the +brightest jewel of your imperial crown.</p> + +<p>The destiny of millions is in your Majesty’s +hands. Under your auspices, your empire has +made gigantic strides in knowledge and in +power. The future is formed by the present. +O, be it your most imperial ambition to make +that knowledge and that power the source of +virtue and of liberty! Such are the wishes, +and such the hopes, of one to whom your reputation +is dearer than to a thousand flatterers, +and who is, in all sincerity,</p> + +<p class='right pr4'>Your Majesty’s most obedient,</p> +<p class='right pr6'> And devoted humble servant,</p> + +<p class="right pr2"> + JOHN BOWRING. +</p> + +<div class='fl1'> +<p class='center'> + <i>Boulogne Prison,</i><br> + <i>Oct. 20, 1822.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class='cb'></div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[v]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="INTRODUCTION"> + INTRODUCTION. + </h2> +</div> + + +<p>I am encouraged to commit another volume of +‘Specimens of the Russian Poets,’ to that opinion +which so kindly welcomed, and so favourably +judged the former. I write now, instructed, +and I hope benefited, by the very extensive +notice which the first essay obtained; and I may +indulge an honest feeling of complacency and +pride in remembering, that, in almost every instance, +candour and generosity characterised the +literary articles to which my experiment gave +birth. I avoided, generally, any criticism on +the works for which I requested the patient +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">[vi]</span> +judgment of my countrymen. I deemed the +object most interesting to trace the early developement +of poetical literature in a nation +bursting into civilization. The spectacle was +before me, and its phenomena left a strong impression +on my mind. I was witnessing not a +family, not a tribe, not a feeble community passing +from barbarism to light and knowledge, but +a mighty people whose aspirations after political +influence, and whose excitements to foreign conquests, +were among the most striking facts which +accompanied their onward progress. Others, I +thought, could not fail to trace the influence of +their early literature upon their future destiny. +It was my object to gather together the mementos +which their poets strewed around them +as they moved forward. I have continued my +labours, and I believe, that while philosophy +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[vii]</span> +will find much matter for sober thought in these +varied pages, the statesman will do well to study +the tendency and the character of that fountain-head +of popular feeling whose waters will spread +over generations of men, and over the widest +empire of the world.</p> + +<p>I have said that the intellectual state of a +country cannot be judged of by its productions +of literature or of art: and I suspect strange +delusions exist in our minds with regard to the +attainments of the mass of society in those +countries which our classical associations hallow +with every thing that is bright and beautiful. +America has produced no Murillo, no Cervantes, +no Calderon; yet who would hesitate to +rank her people far above the unenlightened—the +brave, the generous, though unenlightened—inhabitants +of the European peninsula? The +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[viii]</span> +extreme depression of the many leads to the +extraordinary elevation of the few, and poetry +sits on the very pinnacle of civilization. It +may rear itself like a pyramid, where all around +is a waste. So, a land may be covered with +verdure and cultivation, where no column is +raised to commemorate the past—where no pile +makes an appeal to the sympathies of the future—where +the generations of men flourish and +fade, ‘and the place that knew them knows them +no more.’ The possession of every object of +reasonable desire leaves little scope to the imagination, +which is the child of hopes and fears. +Such a land, however, must necessarily be the +abode of freedom, for freedom alone can give +that equality of rights whose influence produces +universal happiness. A real equality of rights, +and of security in their possession, will necessarily +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">[ix]</span> +bring with them something like an equality +of knowledge, at least of that knowledge which +has the most direct influence upon human felicity. +Well understood freedom is that which +provides for the well-being of the great majority +of mankind—it is that which leaves in every +individual’s hand the greatest possible sum of +political influence and power which is consistent +with the interest of the whole. Despotism is that +which provides for a small minority by the sacrifice +of the mass of society; it is that which arms +itself with the greatest possible sum of authority, +and leaves no strength, and will communicate +no intelligence to the people. A strong government—a +government too strong to be influenced +by the national will, and which makes no real +appeal to that will, must necessarily be a bad +government. That government is alone wise, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_x">[x]</span> +and that government is alone legitimate, which +requires and possesses the support of popular +opinion, and which is too weak to oppose, and +too honest to wish to oppose, that sanction by +which it was created, and by which it may be +destroyed.</p> + +<p>The history of time gone by will afford few +facts to assist us in judging of the tendencies +of those marvellous changes which are now +going on in the intellectual world. Truth +and knowledge shut up in a few individual +minds, and enlightening only a narrow circle +already half enlightened, had nothing to connect +them with the great masses of society. +They were torches which blazed in a chamber, +leaving darkness behind them, till other torches +were kindled. Now the light of instruction is +unextinguished—is inextinguishable. It is not +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xi">[xi]</span> +exclusive in its blessings, nor bounded in its +journeyings. Its roots are planted among the +poor. They are entering on their heritage, +which cannot be taken from them. The treasure +is confided to their keeping—to the keeping +of the many and the strong.</p> + +<p>But though society is obviously tending to a +state in which some of its existing gradations +must necessarily be destroyed, in which the +wider repartition of knowledge must inevitably +lead to a more equal distribution of wealth, of +political power and of consequent enjoyment, it +must be borne in memory, that the influence +of intellect is incredibly great, and that the +master-minds of a nation give a deep impression +to the national character. I have done violence +to my feelings by translating many of the military +and warlike productions of the Russian +poets; but they will not be without their use. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xii">[xii]</span> +They will serve to show how the feelings of +hatred and malevolence are excited; how that +love of outrage which is called ‘martial spirit’ +creeps into the bosom of a people, and corrodes +all the mild and all the generous virtues. They +will show the arts by which the slumbering +passions are aroused, and how terrible it is to +arouse them. Nor will such compositions excite +<i>our</i> sympathy—they are directed against +us as well as others. Our shame and sin are +indeed heavier and older than theirs. Let us +never forget, that he who hates another prompts +another to hate him. We cannot keep all the +malevolence and all the vengeance for ourselves; +it will return upon us with renewed strength and +redoubled ferocity. The wound may be inflicted +for a momentary purpose, but we leave +the weapon there to canker and fester for ever.</p> + +<p>On other grounds their introduction is almost +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiii">[xiii]</span> +indispensable. They are a necessary and an +important part of the general picture. Among +these compositions, that of Zhukovsky, ‘The +Minstrel in the Russian Camp,’ is perhaps the +most popular of modern poetical productions in +Russia.</p> + +<p>So much for generalities, which I hope will +not be thought misplaced. And if some regret +be felt, that so many of the Russian poets have +followed the example of us, ‘the more enlightened +nations,’ in their admiration of heroes +and conquerors, and in their laud of restless +and ruthless ambition, some of them are entitled +to a higher and a nobler praise—they have +sung the gentler influences of truth, and knowledge, +and virtue, the progress of civilization, +and the spreading happiness of man.</p> + +<p>A remark has been made and repeated on +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xiv">[xiv]</span> +the subject of the former volume: ‘These poets +have little originality.’ Now something must +be allowed for the extreme difficulty of preserving +in translation all the characteristics of +the author. Many phrases cannot be verbally +rendered—many associations cannot be felt. To +a Russian <i>red</i> and <i>beautiful</i> are synonymous; +he uses the same word for both. How can the +imagery of his mind be transferred to an English +reader? Besides, too much is expected on the +score of originality. Man is every where the +same being, with the same feelings and affections, +the same senses, and nearly the same +desires: their modifications are but slightly +varied by circumstances, and the great tablet +of nature too has far less variety than we are +wont to deem. Does a Russian see any thing +brighter than the sun, or vaster than the ocean, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xv">[xv]</span> +or more beautiful than a cloudless night? Is +any thing more venerable than his mountains, +or more poetic than his streams? Such are +<i>his</i> elements of song—are they not also ours? +The subjects of poetry too are less extensive +while general literature is in its cradle, and +their number is still more limited where the +form of government prevents the mind from attaining +its full expansion, and bars out some of +the warmest and sublimest feelings—such as +indignation against oppression—and others of +the tenderest—such as sympathy with the oppressed. +The intenser passions of the poet, +unable to exercise themselves in the high range +of patriotism, are spent in the songs of love and +valour; while his calmer affections dwell among +the daily business of society, recording the joy +of the parent over the new-born infant, the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xvi">[xvi]</span> +rapture of the bridegroom, or the plaints that +wail the dead. The poetry which is here +presented is the poetry of a highly-imitative, +strongly-feeling, but despotically-governed +people, erected upon a magnificent, sonorous, +and flexible language, blending something of +the wildness of oriental character with the sternness +and the sobriety of European precision. +That the impress of our literature, and that of +our neighbours, is to be most distinctly traced, +is quite certain. Nearly half the poetry which +Russia possesses is translation. Their leading +authors have travelled, and have taken back +with them the treasures they found: and they +have done good service. The most obvious +resemblance is to the German school: and to +the honour of Germans be it said, that their +influence on the civilization of Russia has been +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xvii">[xvii]</span> +most extensive and most salutary. Their patient +industry, their general intelligence, their social +habits of life, have so interblended them with +the Russian people, working a silent but an +effective change, that the whole mass will become +leavened with their long-suffering, their +industrious, and intellectual virtues. The necessary +result of an habitual intercourse with +foreign nations—an intercourse established by +Peter the Great, and most wisely encouraged +by all his successors, was the introduction of +models which placed the poets of Russia, as to +form at least, on a level with the most cultivated +people of the south. Their language easily +lent itself to all the varieties of versification, +and without the gradations of advancing improvement, +they adopted a style of poetical +composition which they have found no reason +to modify or to change.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_xviii">[xviii]</span></p> + +<p>On the whole, the present volume will possess +a character much more decidedly national than +the former. A variety of poems immediately +connected with the earlier history of Russia, +and others representing the peculiar habits of +the Russians, are introduced. The national +songs, especially, will, I trust, excite some attention. +These are the poetry of the people. +These are the fragments whose authors are +never raised from the darkness of oblivion—these +are the joy and the study of the peasantry, +their consolation in the dreariness of their wintry +dwellings, conveyed from tongue to tongue +through many a generation. These are no +subjects for criticism, for criticism cannot reach +them—it cannot abstract one voice from the +chorus, nor persuade the village youths and +maidens that the measure is false, or the music is +discordant. The forms of versification, though +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xix">[xix]</span> +some of them are rude and irregular, I have +endeavoured to preserve, as a part of their +original charm. I have heard them sung in +the wooden huts of the cottagers; and have +been cheered by them when the boor has whirled +me in his uncouth sledge over the frozen snow. +The rude melody, often gentle and plaintive, in +which they found utterance, still vibrates in my +ear. I ask for them no admiration—they are +the delight of millions. The fame of the Iliad +is nothing to theirs!</p> + +<p>I had not seen the <i>Poetische Erzeugnisse</i> of +Karl Friedrich von der Borg, printed at Dorpat +in 1819, when the former volume was published. +I confess I was surprised at the almost verbal +resemblance of some of his translations to my +own. In this second volume I have been able +to strengthen myself with his opinion as to the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xx">[xx]</span> +selection, and to avail myself of his most interesting +Specimens for my assistance. His +fidelity is admirable.</p> + +<p>This volume was written during my solitary +confinement in the prison of Boulogne: it made +days and hours swift and pleasurable, which +might have been most long and wearisome. +When my spirit reposed from that exciting indignation +which seemed to exhaust its energies, +it was among the poets of Sclavonia that it +lingered. I shall recal this memorable epoch +of my life with gratitude and pride—gratitude +to that active sympathy which my situation +awakened, and pride in the recollection, that in +the darkest moment no dejection, far less despondency, +had place in my mind. I could +picture, and did picture every thing that injustice, +cruelty, and violence, might assemble +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_xxi">[xxi]</span> +for my humiliation or my destruction. I communed +with my conscience, and anticipated +the worst with cheerfulness. Surely there is +something in principles which cannot be shaken +by the terrors of life, nor the fears of death.</p> + +<p class='right pr2 mt1'> + J. B. +</p> + +<div class='fl1'> +<p class='center'> + <i>Boulogne Prison,</i><br> + <i>Oct. 25, 1822.</i> +</p> +</div> +<div class='cb'></div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxii"></a><a id="Page_xxiii"></a>[xxiii]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak" id="TABLE_OF_CONTENTS"> + TABLE OF CONTENTS. + </h2> +</div> + + +<table class="autotable"> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#INTRODUCTION'><span class="smcap">Introduction</span></a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +v +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Lomonossov'>Lomonossov</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +1 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Derzhavin'>Derzhavin</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +15 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Dmitriev'>Dmitriev</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +23 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Zhukovsky'>Zhukovsky</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +57 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Karamsin'>Karamsin</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +117 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Dolgorukov'>Dolgorukov</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +133 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Batiushkov'>Batiushkov</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +141 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Merslaekov'>Merslakov</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +159 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Voeikov'>Voeikov</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +167 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Muraviev'>Muraviev</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +173 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Kapnist'>Kapnist</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +185 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Petrov'>Petrov</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +189 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Shatrov'>Shatrov</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +205 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Vaesemsky'>Væsemsky</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +213 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Milonov'>Milonov</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +221 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#Khovansky'>Khovansky</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +233 +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdl"> +<a href='#National_Songs'>National Songs</a> +</td> +<td class="tdr"> +237 +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_xxiv"></a><a id="Page_1"></a><a id="Page_2"></a><a id="Page_3"></a>[3]</span></p> +</div> +<div class='poetry-container'> + <p class="nobreak center fs200 mt2 mb2 bold bb" id="RUSSIAN_ANTHOLOGY"> + <i>RUSSIAN ANTHOLOGY.</i><br><br> + </p> +</div> + + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Lomonossov"> + Lomonossov. + </h2> +</div> + + +<h3 id="ODE"> + ODE. +</h3> + +<p class='center allsmcap'>FROM JOB.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O man! whose weakness dares rebel</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Against the Almighty’s strength, draw nigh</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And listen, for my tongue shall tell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His message from the clouded sky.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Midst rain, and storm, and hail, he spoke,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Around the piercing thunder broke;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At his proud word the clouds disperse,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And thus he shakes the universe:</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Come forth, then, in thy pride and power—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Come answer me, thou son of earth!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where wert thou in that distant hour</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When first I gave creation birth?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When all the mountain’s heights were rear’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When all the heavenly hosts appear’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My wisdom and my strength’s display?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Man! let thy towering wisdom say!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Where wert thou when the stars, new born,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sprung into light at my command,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And fill’d the bounds of eve and morn,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sung the intelligence that plann’d</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their course sublime? When first the sun</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On wings of glory had begun</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His race, and oceans of pure light</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wafted mild Luna through the night.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Who bid the ascending mountains rise?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who fix’d the boundary of the sea?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who, when the waves attack’d the skies,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Confined their furious revelry?</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">The caverns hid in darkness I</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unveil’d—my breath of majesty</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dispersed the gathering mists—my hand</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Divided ocean from the land.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Say, canst thou bid the morning dawn</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At earlier hour than I have given,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or water the rain-thirsty lawn</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When I have shut the gates of heaven?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Canst thou a favouring breeze prepare</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To waft the anxious mariner;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or guide this earthly ball—to crush</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The vile—and the tumultuous hush?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Say, hast thou scaled the mountain’s height,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or sounded ocean’s vast abyss;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or measured all that infinite</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Immensity that o’er thee is?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or couldst thou ever penetrate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Those clouds so dark, so desolate,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That round death’s midnight-portal dwell?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or dive into the depth of hell?</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Couldst thou with tempests fill the cloud,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The glory of the sun to hide;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in yon bright cerulean shroud</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The lightning and the watery tide:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With swiftly-gathering fiery flash,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And with the mountain-shaking crash,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tear earth’s foundations up, and show</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What dust is thy poor world below?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Tell me, thou scrutinizing mind,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who leads the eagle’s flight sublime?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His pinions are the mighty wind,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His path beyond or earth or time;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Far o’er the sea, on some tall rock,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He looks upon the surge’s shock.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who could his craving wants supply?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who gave him that sun-dazzling eye?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Look at the awful behemoth—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Read there, vain man! my power’s display:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Go! see him trample, in his wrath,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The thorny forests in his way.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">His veins are hard as cables—try</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With him thy arm of potency!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His ribs are brass—his giant horn</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Puts all thy boastful strength to scorn.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Go! hook the huge leviathan,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And draw him subject to the shore;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The ocean is his kingdom—man!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His course, the boundless waters o’er:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The scales upon his sides are bright</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As silver shields in Luna’s light:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He sees, in mockery, frowning lord!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy threatening spear and sharpen’d sword.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘A millstone is his heart—his row</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of teeth like sickles, threat’ning still:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who shall attack him—hero! who?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He waits the strife with ready will.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He basks him in the sunny beam</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the sharp rock—’tis smooth to him—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His strong impenetrable mass</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sleeps as it were on sand or grass.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘When he prepares him for the fray,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The ocean like a furnace gleams;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The thundering surges mark his way,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His anger like a caldron steams;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His eyes with burning fury roll,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As in a forge the scarlet coal.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All fly before him—“Who shall stand</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Before my frown, when I command?”</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘When my high will creation’s plan</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And self-supported wisdom drew,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Did I consult thee, feeble man!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To tell me what my hand should do?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Why didst thou not my purpose check,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou who wert then an atom speck,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And say, when I was framing thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“Why art thou thus creating me?”’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Insolent mortal!—bow thy head:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">God’s wisdom and God’s goodness trace;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the safe path He marks thee—tread—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis He who fix’d thy earthly place;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">And joy and grief alike are given</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To lead thee on thy way to heaven:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then hope and bear—in patience bear—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And throw on Him thy woe, thy care.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="MORNING_MEDITATIONS"> + MORNING MEDITATIONS. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O’er the wide earth yon torch of heavenly light</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Its splendour spreads, and God’s proud works unveils;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My soul, enraptured at the marvellous sight,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unwonted peace, and joy, and wonder feels,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And with uplifted thoughts of ecstasy</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Exclaims, ‘How great must their Creator be!’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O, if a mortal’s power could stretch so high—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If mortal sight could reach that glorious sun,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And look undazzled at its majesty,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Twould seem a fiery ocean burning on</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From time’s first birth, whose ever-flaming ray</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Could ne’er extinguish’d be by time’s decay.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There waves of fire ’gainst waves of fire are dashing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And know no bounds; there hurricanes of flame,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As if in everlasting combat flashing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Roar with a fury which no time can tame:</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">There molten mountains boil like ocean-waves,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And rain in burning streams the welkin laves.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But in Thy presence all is but a spark,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A little spark: that wond’rous orb was lighted</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By Thy own hand, the dreary and the dark</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pathway of man to cheer—of man benighted;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To guide the march of seasons in their way,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And place us in a paradise of day.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Dull night her sceptre sways o’er plains and hills,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O’er the dark forest and the foaming sea;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy wond’rous energy all nature fills,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And leads our thoughts, and leads our hopes to Thee.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How great is God! a million tongues repeat,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And million tongues re-echo, ‘God, how great!’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But now again the day-star bursts the gloom,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Scattering its sunshine o’er the opening sky;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy eye, that pierces even through the tomb,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Has chased the clouds, has bid the vapours fly;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And smiles of light, descending from above,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bathe all the universe with joy and love.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="EVENING_MEDITATIONS"> + EVENING MEDITATIONS, +</h3> + +<p class='center allsmcap'>ON SEEING THE AURORA BOREALIS.⁠<a id="FNanchor_1_1" href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>⁠</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The day retires, the mists of night are spread</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Slowly o’er nature, darkening as they rise;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The gloomy clouds are gathering round our head,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And twilight’s latest glimmering gently dies:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The stars awake in heaven’s abyss of blue;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Say, who can count them?—who can sound it?—who?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Even as a sand in the majestic sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A diamond-atom on a hill of snow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A spark amidst a Hecla’s majesty,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">An unseen mote where maddened whirlwinds blow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Am I midst scenes like these—the mighty thought</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O’erwhelms me—I am nought, or less than nought.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And science tells me that each twinkling star,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That smiles above us, is a peopled sphere,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or central sun, diffusing light afar;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A link of nature’s chain:—and there, even there</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Godhead shines display’d—in love and light,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Creating wisdom—all-directing might.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Where are thy secret laws, O nature! where?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In wintry realms thy dazzling torches blaze,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And from thy icebergs streams of glory there</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are pour’d, while other suns their splendent race</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In glory run: from frozen seas what ray</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of brightness?—from yon realms of night what day?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Philosopher, whose penetrating eye</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Reads nature’s deepest secrets, open now</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This all-inexplicable mystery:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Why do earth’s darkest, coldest regions glow</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With lights like these?—O tell us, knowing one,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For thou dost count the stars, and weigh the sun.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Whence are these varied lamps all lighted round?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whence all the horizon’s glowing fire?—the heaven</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Is splendent as with lightning—but no sound</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of thunder—all as calm as gentlest even;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And winter’s midnight is as bright, as gay,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As the fair noontide of a summer’s day.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">What stores of fire are these, what magazine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whence God from grossest darkness light supplies?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What wond’rous fabric which the mountains screen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose bursting flames above those mountains rise;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where rattling winds disturb the mighty ocean,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the proud waves roll with eternal motion?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Vain is the inquiry—all is darkness—doubt:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This earth is one vast mystery to man.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">First find the secrets of this planet out,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then other planets, other systems scan;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nature is veil’d from thee, presuming clod!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And what canst thou conceive of Nature’s God?</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3 id="FOOTNOTES"> + FOOTNOTES: +</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_1_1" href="#FNanchor_1_1" class="label">[1]</a> This Ode was given in the first volume, but as it ought to +accompany the poem which precedes it, it is now published in +another form.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Derzhavin"> + Derzhavin. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a><a id="Page_17"></a>[17]</span></p> +</div> + + +<h3 id="TO_A_NEIGHBOUR"> + TO A NEIGHBOUR. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">For whom these festal luxuries</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On Neva’s foaming banks—for whom?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Neath intertwining, shadowing trees,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where all is flowers, and fruits, and bloom;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gay Persian tents emboss’d in gold,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And China vases manifold;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sparkling glass from Austria sent;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For whom—for what? O why abuse</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fortune? Why dissipate and lose</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gifts, which at best are only lent?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The song is heard—the chorus blends</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Its louder tones;—’neath pines up-piled</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And fruits, the wearied table bends;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sweets—O silly, spendthrift child!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The senses are all feasted:—Maids</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pour forth the grape-juice—see, it spreads—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The <span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> +world contributes: ancient Rhine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Champagne, and Xeres, mingling come;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And British streams, and streams from home,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Selzerswave and Moselle wine.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">In a cool grot, whose fountains flow</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Round alabaster piles and busts,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Stretch’d on a bed where roses grow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The slave of thy unholy lusts,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou liest: a maiden, bright and fair,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And young, reposes near thee there—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A nymph with laughter in her eye:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She sings—thou sinkest on her breast,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, strangely wilder’d, thou hast prest</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her hand, in ecstasy of joy.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou sleepest—and thy dreams foretel</div> + <div class="verse indent0">An everlasting heaven of bliss:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Its flowery buds around thee swell</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With blossoms bright and blest as this.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou hast thy treasures, hast thy fields;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For thee Siberia’s bosom yields</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Of countless wealth a rich display:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thee, a proud stream of silver meets:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O blessed! whom the morrow greets</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As happy as the yesterday.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O blessed! in life’s vale below,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who sees unmoved this shifting scene—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who, though the mighty storm-winds blow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But hears their rage, and is serene.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The thunder-clouds may o’er him roar,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The waves may spring the mountains o’er,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Scattering the sand and foam—’tis nought</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To him—the torn and scatter’d wood</div> + <div class="verse indent0">May leave a desert solitude—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He sits in calm and quiet thought.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ours are but foolish wishes—change,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Change is the meteor we pursue:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When nought is wanting, then we range</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And gasp, and grasp at something new.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The time of sorrow comes—thy maid</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Betrays thee as she has betray’d</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Other admirers—then the song—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ay! all this noisy song will cease,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And thou be left to think in peace—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In sadness——Sorrow’s day is long.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Look! even now her eyes are darting</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Less beams of love, of revelry.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hark! from yon gathering clouds is starting</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A fearful storm—thy ship’s at sea.—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No! no!—while all seems fair and bright,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O dream not thou of sorrow’s night!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Feast, neighbour, feast—and dance and sing—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Life’s sun has but a summer’s glow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And joy is innocent—but know,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis but that joy which bears no sting.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="THE_SHIPWRECK"> + THE SHIPWRECK. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The silver moon the clouds looks through,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Her beams upon the waters float;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And midst the gathering mist and dew</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The mariner has launch’d his boat.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And in that moonlight’s placid ray</div> + <div class="verse indent2">His course across the deep he takes;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The welcoming port before him lay,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And in his bosom joy awakes.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But oh! he dashes on a rock—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">His voice is choked—his eye is dim;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A moment struggling ’gainst the shock,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And then—the waves o’er-mantle him.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis but life’s picture—for the tomb</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Drags all things to its desolate cell:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hope is a flower of morning’s bloom—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And love and friendship——fare ye well!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="FRAGMENT"> + FRAGMENT. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The ass that looks upon the stars</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is not less asinine;—the base</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And cowardly that boasts of scars,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or wears a crown, may take the place</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of generous spirits, in the throng</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where usurpation reigns; for men</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Confound the worthy with the strong,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor weigh pretension’s clamor vain.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The hollowest vessels sound the loudest,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The richest treasures deepest lie;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet piled up wealth, and rank the proudest,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are but tumultuous vanity.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I am a prince—with princely spirit,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A ruler—if I rule my heart;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A titled heir—if I inherit</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of virtue, wisdom, truth, a part.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Dmitriev"> + Dmitriev. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a><a id="Page_25"></a>[25]</span></p> +</div> + + +<h3 id="JERMAK"> + JERMAK. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">What vision, history, bring’st thou now</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To flit before my wandering eye?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the dark night, amidst the glow</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the pale moon, that tremblingly</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shines, Irtish takes its wilder’d way:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It whirls—it wanders—and its spray</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is scatter’d o’er the rugged shore.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Two men are there—pale—bent beneath,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like shadows from the realm of death.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their brows are hung their bosoms o’er:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One young—a beard, by age made white,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Reach’d to the other’s waist—they wear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A simple ornament—affright</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And terror seem attendants there.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Round their steel helmets many a bird</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Flapping its ominous wing is heard,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And spectres rustle in the air:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their vestments from the wild beasts’ lair</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Were brought—their breasts in flint are wrapt,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And with the rime and hoar-frost capt;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A broad knife at their girt was hung;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beneath them two tympanas lay,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And broken, worm-worn lances: they—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They were Siberian Shamana⁠<a id="FNanchor_1_2" href="#Footnote_1_2" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>⁠.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I listen’d there—and thus they sung:</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>OLD MAN.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Yes! Irtish, rage—thy murmuring roar</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Echoes our griefs—the storm that lowers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is meet—for all our sunshine’s o’er—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ah, woe is ours!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>YOUNG MAN.</p> + <div class="verse indent20">Ah! woe is ours,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And fearful is time’s threatening frown!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>OLD MAN.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou whose proud crown, in days of old,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Three different nations⁠<a id="FNanchor_2_3" href="#Footnote_2_3" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> shelter’d—known</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To history—and by fame enroll’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mother of many lands, and land</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of hoary-headed glory—thou—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Even thou, Siberia—thou must bow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Smitten by desolation’s hand.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>YOUNG MAN.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy people are all scatter’d now—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Scatter’d as the whirlwind drives the sand;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy Kutshum⁠<a id="FNanchor_3_4" href="#Footnote_3_4" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> is departed too—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dead—distant from his father-land.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>OLD MAN.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy Shamana are swept away</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose fear, whose fame had fill’d the world.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Is it for this my hair is gray,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That century-aged warriors hurl’d</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Into the dust—even from their tomb</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Call—loudly call on others—Come,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And rouse again Shaitana’s⁠<a id="FNanchor_4_5" href="#Footnote_4_5" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> day?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>YOUNG MAN.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Ye Gods! where was your conqueror then?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>OLD MAN.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">O miserable, mournful doom!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That handful of Muscovia’s men!—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O had the blasting lightning riven—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Deluge—or plague—the shame, the stain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Might have been borne—but Jermak!—Heaven!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>YOUNG MAN.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">O curse him now, Siberia’s hills!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Streams, vales, on him your curses be!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Night—starless night—Siberia fills—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The desolating demon he!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>OLD MAN.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">He came—a torch of fury lighted—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A frost, that all creation blighted!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where’er he went his ravaging breath</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Brought, like the withering pestilence, death!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And death ruled o’er our land benighted.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>YOUNG MAN.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">The brother of the king he slew.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>OLD MAN.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">With Mehmet Kul⁠<a id="FNanchor_5_6" href="#Footnote_5_6" class="fnanchor">[5]</a>⁠, Siberia’s pride,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I saw him struggle—and there flew</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The whistling barbs on every side.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Kul from its sheathe the sabre drew,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">And thus in generous rage he cried:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O mock not, death!—an unstain’d name</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With chains—with infamy—or shame!’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then rush’d he fiercely on the foe.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O fearful sight!—their sabres flash—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their eyes are fire—and blow to blow</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is echoed in the horrid clash:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Both swords are shiver’d—and they stand</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unarm’d, with upraised close-clench’d hand.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis man to man, and breast to breast:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The forest glades the shock repeat,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the earth shakes beneath their feet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And their blood flows like rain—the best,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The bravest blood: their big hearts burst—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their knees give way—their sinews crack—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their flanks are broken—heat, and thirst,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And weariness:—’tis now the first—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis now the second faints—th’ attack</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Kindles again:—who wins?—Jermāk.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Mine art thou now—from this proud hour</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All, all is conquer’d—all is won.’</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>YOUNG MAN.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Our thread of destiny is spun!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The victor’s desolating power</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Has crush’d Siberia—but her sighs—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her heavy groans——</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>OLD MAN.</p> + <div class="verse indent22">Will ever rise.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But hear, my son!—At eventide,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In this dark solitude I trod,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And brought my offering to our God;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While sad devotion’s thoughts came o’er me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A howling north wind by my side</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rush’d, scattering the riven leaves before me;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The hundred-winter oak trees mutter’d</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Terrible sounds—the wild goat fled,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Affrighted, from his wonted bed;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I fell:—some godlike voice thus utter’d:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Racha⁠<a id="FNanchor_6_7" href="#Footnote_6_7" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> no suppliant prayer shall hear</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">When spreading his avenging token.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Siberia! thou his laws hast broken—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Take thy reward—his curses bear:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou the white monarch’s⁠<a id="FNanchor_7_8" href="#Footnote_7_8" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> slave shalt be,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And every day-break, every eve,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall fetter’d find thee—fetter’d leave;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Jermak’s fame, and Jermak’s race,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Find an eternal resting-place,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Long as the moon its course shall keep.’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Twas silence—and from heaven’s high doors</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A thrice-repeated thunder roars,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lost—lost in darkness drear and deep.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Oh! woe is ours——</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>YOUNG MAN.</p> + <div class="verse indent20">O woe is ours!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Then sighing—trembling—then they rose</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From the cold rock where lichen grows;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">They raise their war-arms from the sand,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And wandering slowly ’long the strand,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The mist conceals them from my eye.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy dust, Jermāk, sleeps still and calm,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But Russia shall erect on high</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy pyramid, and shall embalm</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy name with flowers and poetry:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A pile of gold, which thy good spear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Won from Siberia, shall she rear!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What said I, thoughtless one!—what dream</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Has passion in its sleep created?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where is his fane?—the dust of him</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is lost—his grave unconsecrated,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unknown:—<i>that</i> dust the wild-boars tread;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The savage Ostyaks there chase,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With their wing’d barbs, the timid race</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of fawns o’er the vast desert spread.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But be consoled, thou heir of fame!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The genius of the lyre is come</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To sing her matins o’er thy tomb;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And many an angel guards thy name</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">While seated on thy ruins:—verse</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall thus her sweetest strains rehearse;</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Great One! who in the hoary time</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wast born—and victory led thee on—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Death stopp’d thee in thy course sublime,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And now thy very dust is gone.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Though thy forefathers sought their food</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the rude plain and wilder’d wood;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Though savage wolves escorted thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And fame ne’er spread thy feats abroad,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet still thy glory’s majesty</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Endures—and thou art half a God.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From age to age—above decay,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Till lasting night time’s day shall close;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Till the proud heavens shall pass away,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Time upon his scythe repose⁠<a id="FNanchor_8_9" href="#Footnote_8_9" class="fnanchor">[8]</a>⁠.’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="MOSKVA_RESCUED"> + MOSKVA RESCUED. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Receive the minstrel wanderer</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Within thy glades, thou shadowy wood!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No idle tone of joy be here;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor let even Venus’ song intrude!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fair Moskva’s smile my vision fills—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her fields, her waters,—towering high,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, seated on her throne of hills,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A glorious pile of days gone by.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O Moskva, many a nation’s mother,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How bright thy glances beam on me!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where, like to thee—where stands another—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where, Russia’s daughter, like to thee!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As pearls thy thousand crowns appear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy hands a diamond sceptre hold;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy domes, thy steeples bright and clear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like sunny rays on eastern gold.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">The treasures of the orient meet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Those of the west: through every street</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A stream of wealth and luxury flows.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy sons are natural heirs of fame,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Courage and glory shrine their name;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy daughters—lovely as the rose.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But war has spread its terrors o’er thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And thou wert once in ashes laid;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy throne seem’d tottering then before thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy sceptre feeble as thy blade.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sarmatian fraud and force, o’er-raging</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The humbled world, have reach’d thy gate;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy faith with flattering smiles engaging,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now threatening daggers on thee wait—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And they were drawn—thy temples sank—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy virgins led with fetter clank—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy sons’ blood streaming to the skies—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Spirit of vengeance! now arise.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Save me, thou guardian angel!—save!’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So criedst thou in thy agony.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy streets are silent as the grave—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The unsheath’d sword—it hangs o’er thee.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And where is Russia’s saviour—where?—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Stand up—arouse thee—in thy might!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Moskva alarm’d—surrounded there</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And clouded, as a winter’s night.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Look!—she awakes—she knows no fear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And young and old, and prince and slave;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their daggers flash like boreal light;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They crowd—they crowd them to the fight.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But who is that with snowy hair—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The first—that stern old man—the tide</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of heroes he leads onward there!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pozharsky—Russia’s strength and pride!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What transport tunes my lyre!—my lays</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seem glowing with celestial fire:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O! I will sing that old man’s praise;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shout loudly now, thou heavenly choir!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I hear—I hear the armour’s sound:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The dust-clouds round the pillars rise—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">See! Russia’s children gather round.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Pozharsky o’er the city flies,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And from death’s stillness he awakes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The very life of valour.—Lo!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Midst the star’s light, and sunny glow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He forms the firm courageous row.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Here—there: hope, joy, again appear:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The burghers gather round him there,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And range them for the combat now.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘And why this crowd?’ a warrior calls</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From a high pinnacle⁠<a id="FNanchor_9_10" href="#Footnote_9_10" class="fnanchor">[9]</a>⁠—he saw—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His senses whelm’d in fear and awe—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He fled from Kremlin’s royal walls.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Sarmatians! to your swords!’ he said;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Delay not, for we are betray’d:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘I saw the gathering enemy</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Stretch’d like a waking snake along:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘They gain the city rapidly—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘The fields are cover’d with the throng.’</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis bustle all—’tis all dismay;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What crowds of soldiers fill each street!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Round walls and gates their cohorts meet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And like a whirlwind urge their way</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To where Sclavonian thunders roar!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And see! how bright the heaven is glowing!—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What smoke—what flame—what blood is flowing!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sword echoes sword the wide plain o’er;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whole ranks are harvested that stood</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like the firm oak trees of the wood:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The bullets o’er the field are flying—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Here sleep the dead, there shriek the dying:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There, staggering ’neath a lance’s wound,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A wild-horse madly stamps the ground,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Flies—falls—and covers, as he dies,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The turf on which his rider lies:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Still the storm struggles in the air,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And agony is every where.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Death is the conqueror!—death—despair!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They rule o’er village, field, and grove:</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">A wounded maiden tears her hair,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A hoary sire just looks above,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then to the ground—and sleeps serenely.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Come, moralist! and study here:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">See that poor orphan, suffering keenly,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His star is sunk; the starting tear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That falls for those whose blood was spilt—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For others’ interests, others’ guilt,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Trembles upon his cheeks; the fate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of war hath left him friendless—best</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Were it for him to join the rest,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor live thus drear and desolate.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And thrice the day hath seen the strife,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And thrice hath dawn’d Aurora blithe;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The battle-demon sports with life,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Death waves untired his murderous scythe.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pozharsky’s thunder still is heard;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He speeds him like the eagle-bird</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Following his prey—destroying—crushing,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then on the Poles with fury rushing,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">He scatters them like flying sands,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That giant of the hundred hands.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On! On!—What transports of delight!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Hurrah! Pozharsky wins the fight!’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The city joins the ecstasy—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O yes! our Moskva now is free!’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O memorable morning’s ray!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O ne’er to be forgotten day,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What painter’s pencil shall portray thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in thy natural joy array thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And tell each bosom’s rapture then!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Millions in wild delight!—they crowd</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Upon the bulwarks, shouting loud:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The very roofs are made of men.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What flower-wreathes o’er the streets they flung,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What triumph-songs the churches sung;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How high, how bright the banners hung,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And palms crown’d every citizen!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Where is the hero?—where is he</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who led our sons to victory?</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">List to that cry of eloquence—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘What—what shall be his recompense?’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Look!—He who made the invaders bleed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Moskva and his country freed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He—modest as courageous—he</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Takes the bright garland from his brow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And to a youth he bends him now—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He bends his old and hero-knee.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Thou art of royal blood,’ he said,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Thy father is in foemen’s hand;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Wear thou that garland on thy head,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘And bless, O bless our father-land!’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Valiant old hero! Russia’s pride,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Russia’s love,—I bless thee now.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By the gigantic mountain’s side</div> + <div class="verse indent0">May everlasting waters flow;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">May marshes turn to groves and woods;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Out of our wastes may gardens grow;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in our barren solitudes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">May cities flourish—and decay:</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">While generations pass away,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And brighter lights disperse their ray;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet thou shalt be the poet’s charm,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And thou shalt be the warrior’s glory,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Through never-ending time to warm</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The bosom with thy patriot story.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="TO_THE_VOLGA"> + TO THE VOLGA. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Now furl your sails—and heaven be blest!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For we have reach’d the promised land:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, Volga, thou whose wavy breast</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Has brought us to this smiling strand—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Volga!—the king of waters—named</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The great, the proud, the glorious—famed</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In history—now farewell! ’Twas thou</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who listenedst to the poet’s song</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ere mingled with earth’s busy throng:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To thee his Muse was wont to bow.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And all my hopes have now been crown’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And every joy has been fulfill’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which, when my childish thoughts look’d round,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Some fond aspiring dream instill’d.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When towards thy banks I stretch’d my eye,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Peopled thy shores with industry,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Spread on thy waves the silver sail!—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The dream is realised—I view</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The picture which my fancy drew—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vision of promised brightness—hail!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I held sweet converse with thy winds,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I heard thy waves, thy tempests roar;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I read each threatening cloud that binds</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The soul in fear, and shakes the shore.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As from a tower I look’d, the height</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of granite mountains dimm’d my sight;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lost, and wondering as I view’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I ask’d—Who saw the days of yore?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Proud cities rise her borders o’er,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where ’twas a desert’s solitude!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Here, meadows, villages, and herds,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And smiling cottages are placed;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There, flowers and furze, and savage birds,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are the sole tenants of the waste,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And nought seems wanting to my sight.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I hear—I hear the gay delight</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Of dancing nymphs midst yonder trees;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They fill the air with melody,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While, from his gloomy cavity,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The savage boar their revelling sees.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The sailor, as he skims thy wave,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gathers the listening crew around,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And pointing to a crumbling grave,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Says, ‘Rasin there his dwelling found.’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But pensive silence checks his tongue,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The damp sweat on his brow is hung,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His finger trembles, frozen by cold;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For o’er his thoughts there rush a throng</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the wild images which song</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hath gather’d from the mists of old.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Yes! midst the ruins time hath pil’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There strides upon thy waves the wan</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And awful form of John the Wild,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The terrible of Astrachan.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I see his hordes, in rude affright,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Raining, from yonder vineyard’s height,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Their arrow streams upon the Russ—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Russ—who hurries to the fray</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And conquers—see those hordes obey,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, trembling, yield their land to <i>us</i>.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I heard the Caspian oracle</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Speak in a voice of thunder—‘See!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Persians! your fate how terrible:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘He comes—the lord of victory!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘A thousand bolts his hand sends forth,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘He rules the south, he guides the north,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘The crescent and the lion flee!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Hark! for he comes—their future king</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘The subject waves of Volga bring,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Derbent! thy lord of victory.’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">So spake the sea-god—and his tears</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fell from his watery eyes like rain;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The waves roll’d round the man of years,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He plunged him in the waves again.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But, Volga, brighter triumphs thou</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wreath’st in thy glory-garland now,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">And fairer palms of victory wave;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Caspian trembles at thy feet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Sound, the Belt, thy trophies greet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And all the ocean is thy slave.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And shalt thou not be sung, bright river?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And like thy blessings be thy praise;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall music’s voice be dead for ever,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor to thy fame one anthem raise?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O would the god of song inspire,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ganges ne’er heard so loud a lyre</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As I would tune, sweet stream, for thee!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Euphrates and old father Nile,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Before thy glory should be vile,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And earth resound thy majesty!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="ENJOYMENT"> + ENJOYMENT. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><i>Naslazhdenie.</i></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Let each his wayward will pursue,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I envy not the laurel bough:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I’ll have the myrtle drench’d in dew,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which thou hast smiled on—maiden, thou!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I’ve seen the hero seek the fray,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I’ve seen the sage illume the world;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What then? They sparkled through their day,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And were to death’s oblivion hurl’d!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And whether roses o’er them bloom’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or nettle weeds oppress’d the ground;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They were in silence’ breast entomb’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor heeded all that pass’d around.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Then grief begone—and welcome joy!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And three times welcome, love’s sweet bliss!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For as our days like arrows fly,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How precious every moment is!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Perchance e’en now the mandate’s given</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To call the hurrying pilgrim home;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Perchance the azure arch of heaven</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now hears the summons—‘Mortal—come!’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O tarry not, fair maiden! give</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy hours to rapture, and be blest!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And live, since time is fleeting, live</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While pleasure’s life-blood warms thy breast.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="Akh_kogda_ja_prezhde_snala"> + <i>Akh! kogda ja prezhde snala!</i> +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O had I but known before</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What a misery love might be!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Had that bright star, shining o’er,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ne’er employ’d its witchery—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O had I refused to bear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This his ring, that magic spell—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Never sought the window where</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He was smiling—it were well!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">When the light of passion shone,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Well I might have pass’d it by;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let the wax-wing’d child fly on</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tow’rds some maid less blest than I:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherefore did I seek the grove</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where the swain was wandering then—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Met him with a look of love—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Left him—and return’d again?</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ah! that heart, that was so gay,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sinks ’neath sorrow’s heavy load:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wretched one—I turn’d away:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fix’d me in the public road—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wept and wail’d—Art thou unmoved,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Passing traveller?—pity me!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He was faithless that I loved:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Set me from love’s misery free!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="Stonet_sisii_golubochik"> + <i>Stonet sisĭi golubochik.</i> +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Once a gentle turtle dove</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Night and day dishearten’d mourn’d;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He was widow’d of his love,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She had fled, but not return’d.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He, whose wooing voice was heard</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Constant as the break of day,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pined, and droop’d—the faithful bird</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Still, and sad, and silent lay.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">While his thoughtless partner flew</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Here and there—with all she sported:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All she wish’d to know, or knew,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Greeted, trifled with, or courted.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Oft he look’d, but look’d in vain,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He so faithful, fond, and true;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Slowly pined he ’neath his pain,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Strength departed, sorrow grew.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">See, his head is ’neath his wing:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Coldness o’er his bosom creeps—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ah! poor solitary thing!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All is still—the turtle sleeps.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Then the giddy, gadding dove,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fluttering gaily, thither hies,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Takes her station by her love—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Husband! wake thee now,’ she cries.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">With her wings she fans the dead,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bitterest thoughts begin to flow:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Chloe! tell me, hast thou read?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I’m a widow’d turtle too.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="TO_CHLOE"> + TO CHLOE. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Of all flowers the fairest</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Is the rose to me;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I had deem’d it dearest</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For its constancy.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Every day completer</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Seem’d it to my view,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And its breath was sweeter,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Brighter was its hue.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Trust not Fortune’s blossom,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For my rose I found</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the mountain’s bosom</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Choked with absinth round.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet it had not perish’d;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Still in smiles it shone—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Twas the rose I cherish’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">But—its breath was gone.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Chloe! I bethink me</div> + <div class="verse indent2">What a rose thou art!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Foolish one! to link me</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To a woman’s heart.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3 id="FOOTNOTES_1"> + FOOTNOTES: +</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_1_2" href="#FNanchor_1_2" class="label">[1]</a> The principal inhabitants and warriors of Siberia.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_2_3" href="#FNanchor_2_3" class="label">[2]</a> The Tartar, the Ostyak, and the Bogulich nations.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_3_4" href="#FNanchor_3_4" class="label">[3]</a> Kutshum lost his kingdom, and delivered himself up to the +Calmucks, by whom he was afterwards slain.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_4_5" href="#FNanchor_4_5" class="label">[4]</a> The idols of Siberia.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_5_6" href="#FNanchor_5_6" class="label">[5]</a> Mehmet-Kul was the king’s brother, whom Jermak made +prisoner and sent to the Tzar Ivan Vassilievich. The noble family +of Sibinsky have their origin from him.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_6_7" href="#FNanchor_6_7" class="label">[6]</a> Racha was the Jupiter of the Ostyaks. Kutshum, who was +bred in the Mahommedan faith, whether by argument or by force, +caused the adoption of the Koran through a great part of Siberia.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_7_8" href="#FNanchor_7_8" class="label">[7]</a> The Russian Tzar.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_8_9" href="#FNanchor_8_9" class="label">[8]</a> The crown of Kutshum is still preserved in the museum at +Moskow, among the imperial insignia. The events referred to in +the above poem occurred in the year 1580. Ataman Jermak was +sent by Ivan Vassilievich against Kutshum, and drove him from +his capital, called Siberia (whence the name of the country): it +was situated near Tobolsk.—See Karamsin’s History of Russia.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_9_10" href="#FNanchor_9_10" class="label">[9]</a> The French also employed the steeples of Moskva as watch-houses +or observatories.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Zhukovsky"> + Zhukovsky. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"></a><a id="Page_59"></a>[59]</span></p> +</div> + + +<h3 id="THE_MINSTREL_IN_THE_RUSSIAN_CAMP1"> + THE MINSTREL IN THE RUSSIAN CAMP⁠<a id="FNanchor_1_11" href="#Footnote_1_11" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>⁠. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>MINSTREL.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Now silence wraps the battle field!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The tents with lights are gleaming;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lo! the bright moon’s silver shield</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In the calm heaven is beaming.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fill, fill the glass of rapture, yet,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In unity full-hearted;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In wine the bloody strife forget,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The grief for the departed!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">The glasses’ ruby stream to drain</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Is glory’s pride and pleasure—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wine! conqueror thou of care and pain,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thou art the hero’s treasure.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>WARRIORS.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">O yes!—the ruby stream to drain</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Is glory’s pride and pleasure—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wine! conqueror thou of care and pain,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thou art the hero’s treasure.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>MINSTREL.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Now to the warriors of old time,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The strong in fight and glory!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">These warriors and their deeds sublime</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Are lost in distant story!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The grave hath gather’d up their dust,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Their homes,—the storm hath razed them;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their helmets are devour’d by rust,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And silent those who praised them:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But in their children live their fires,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">We tread the land that bore them,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">And see the shadows of our sires</div> + <div class="verse indent2">With all their triumphs o’er them.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O come! in all your brightness come,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And smile complacent, near us;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Look from your high and misty home,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Encourage us and hear us.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O Svatoslav! time’s injured son,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thy path an eagle’s flying:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘There is no shame in dying—On!⁠<a id="FNanchor_2_12" href="#Footnote_2_12" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>⁠</div> + <div class="verse indent2">There is no shame in dying!’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Donskoi, thou⁠<a id="FNanchor_3_13" href="#Footnote_3_13" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>⁠! courageous man,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Midst heathen foes we find thee;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Destruction leading on thy van,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And nought but death behind thee.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou, Peter! thou, the hero’s crown,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">‘Poltava!’ is repeated:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy foes have thrown their sabres down,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thee, all the world has greeted.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What! Robbers, would ye build your throne</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Upon our cities’ ruin?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy horse and rider fell—begone!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For vengeance is pursuing.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Go hide thee in thy native woods,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">There thy ambition smother;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fate drives thee to their solitudes,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Yes! thou, the rebel’s⁠<a id="FNanchor_4_14" href="#Footnote_4_14" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> brother.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Who is that white-hair’d hero, who</div> + <div class="verse indent2">That northern more than Roman?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His penetrating glance looks through</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The phalanx of the foeman:</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">From yonder clouds what shadowy rows</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Are tow’rds his footsteps turning?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The spirits of the Alpine snows</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Are wailing loud and mourning.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Franks and Sarmatians, at his view,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Death’s icy paleness borrow;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Well they may fear him—well may rue—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">It is the great Suvorov!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Hail! sons of ages long gone by!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Your glories are recorded;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We follow you to victory,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Like you to be rewarded.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We see your ranks—they lead us on—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The foe retreats before us;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We scatter death, as ye have done,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">While ye are smiling o’er us.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Drawn sword, and flowing glass, elate</div> + <div class="verse indent2">We look to our Creator!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘And death for death, and hate for hate,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And curses on the traitor.’</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>WARRIORS.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Draw swords, fill glasses, then, elate,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Look to our great Creator!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘And death for death, and hate for hate,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And curses on the traitor.’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>MINSTREL.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">This glass then to our country’s joys,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Ne’er may our hearts feel colder;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The scenes of mirth while we were boys,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Of love, when we grew older!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our country’s plains, our country’s sky,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The streams that flow beneath it;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The memories of infancy,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And all the thoughts that wreath it</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With joyous hopes and visions blest—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Dear shrine of our affection,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How glows our heart, how beats our breast,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">When beams the recollection.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That is our country, there our home,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">There wife and babes attend us;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And oft their prayers towards us roam,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And oft to Heaven commend us!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">There dwell our plighted, chosen ones;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">How bright their memory flashes!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our monarchs’ dust, our monarchs’ thrones,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And there our fathers’ ashes.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For them we fight, for them we rove,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For them have all forsaken;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And may our land’s undying love</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In our sons’ breasts awaken!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>WARRIORS.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">For them we fight, for them we rove,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For them have all forsaken;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And may our country’s fadeless love</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In our sons’ breasts awaken!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>MINSTREL.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Now to the Tzar that rules the Russ,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And be his sceptre glorious;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His throne an altar is to us—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">We swear to be victorious.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The oath is heard—’tis stamp’d in blood—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">’Tis sworn—there’s no returning;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Our swords shall make our promise good,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Our hearts with love are burning.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Each Russ a son of victory,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To duty’s ranks we throng us;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let every craven coward fly,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For fear was ne’er among us.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>WARRIORS.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Each Russ a son of victory,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To duty’s ranks we throng us;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let every craven coward fly,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For fear was ne’er among us.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>MINSTREL.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Now to the chiefs that lead us on,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The captains that we cherish;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In life, in death, conjoin’d as one,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And heaven for those who perish:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That heaven where all, all holy is,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">All love, and peace, and union,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And courage, dignity, and bliss,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In undisturb’d communion.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">This stormy world we look beyond,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To that serene though far-land;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Here danger is our common bond,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And glory is our garland.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There sit the wreath-crown’d chiefs who led</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Our fathers long before us;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their shield of strength shall guard our head,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Their voices thunder o’er us:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On us their wakening smiles descend,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Their frowns our foes pursuing;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yes! through their ranks what terrors blend,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And threaten them with ruin!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But they shall lead our warriors through,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Amidst the battle’s raging;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Death quits his terrors in our view,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">When with the foe engaging.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Hail! martial hero! chief in fight⁠<a id="FNanchor_5_15" href="#Footnote_5_15" class="fnanchor">[5]</a>⁠,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thou with the ringlets hoary,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Who, like an eagle, takest thy flight</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Midst storm and thunder’s glory.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His furrow’d, weather-beaten brow</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Attracts the inquiry curious;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How cold and calm before the foe,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">But in his rage how furious!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O wonder! from heaven’s halls there flew</div> + <div class="verse indent2">A glorious eagle o’er him⁠<a id="FNanchor_6_16" href="#Footnote_6_16" class="fnanchor">[6]</a>⁠;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He bow’d his head—what shouts! they knew</div> + <div class="verse indent2">That victory was before him.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Fly to our fathers! eagle fly,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And tell them we are speeding</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To fame, to glorious victory,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Our hoary chieftain leading.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He, strong in council, cool in fray,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In every purpose steady;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Well known to him is triumph’s way,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">His wisdom ever ready.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Were Moskva’s glories razed in vain,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Our country’s trophies riven?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No! Russia stands erect again,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For we are here—and heaven!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Hail! hail, ye martial leaders all!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Jermolov, valiant Roman!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Friend of the brave, and valour’s wall,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And terror of the foeman.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rajevsky, thou the chief ador’d!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Amidst the strife we found thee</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Baring thy bosom to the sword,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">With thy young sons around thee.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hail! Milorádovich! to thee;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The field of battle’s thunder:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou tearest, in thy ecstasy,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The tyrant’s chains asunder.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And thou who saved’st Petropolis,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thou, Vittgenstein! brave leader!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shield of thy country, and her bliss,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thou dread of her invader!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">With darkness was his vision fill’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">When first the traitor saw thee;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Alone, but leaning on thy shield,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Numbering his ranks below thee.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then fear came o’er that traitor’s mind,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">His courage left him shatter’d;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy sword was drawn—and, like the wind,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">His trembling ranks were scatter’d.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Hail! Konovnizin! thou our joy!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">From danger absent never:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where bullets whiz, and arrows fly,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">There have we found thee ever.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Before—behind—around him—we</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Saw terror, death, and danger:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He stood, in his serenity,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To all alarm a stranger.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Himself forgotten—see him bear</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Down on those ranks of slavery;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And valour’s self stood wond’ring there—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">He was the god of bravery.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And thou, Platov! thou storm of fight,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thou Ataman the Lion!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy busy lance—thy sling of might,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Scathe—scatter all they fly on.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A wild wolf broken from his lair—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">An eagle on stretch’d pinion:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Death whispering in the foeman’s ear,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Throughout thy wide dominion.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Amidst the woods his torches fly—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">How spreads the conflagration!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bridges oppose—in dust they lie—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Towns—all is desolation!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Hail! Nestor Benningsen, to thee!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Nought can thy mind inveigle;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hero and sage—to enemy</div> + <div class="verse indent2">A serpent and an eagle.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And hail! Woronzov! young and gay,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Though ripen’d by discretion.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Tormassov! in battles gray,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The flying foe’s oppression.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">And Baggovuth⁠<a id="FNanchor_7_17" href="#Footnote_7_17" class="fnanchor">[7]</a>⁠, + with heart of mail,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Waving his sabre o’er ye.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hail! ranks of honour’d heroes, hail!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Our country’s pride and glory!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>WARRIORS.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Hail! ranks of honour’d heroes, hail!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Our country’s pride and glory!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>MINSTREL.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Now, brothers! hallow those who died,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Those from the strife departed;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their place is vacant by our side,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Before us they have started.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No more shall they disperse the foe,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Or hear the battle’s thunder;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their hearts no more with rapture glow—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">They sleep in silence under.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their sword, their shield, are on the ground,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Where damp and rust shall eat them;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Their proud war-horses wander round,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Without a friend to greet them.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O Kulinev! the brave, the strong!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Upon thy shield reclining,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou diedst amidst the battle throng,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">While thy bright sword was shining.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou diedst e’en where thy childhood pass’d⁠<a id="FNanchor_8_18" href="#Footnote_8_18" class="fnanchor">[8]</a>⁠</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In happiest visions o’er thee;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And thou hast made thy grave at last</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Where first thy cradle bore thee:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sure thy latest sigh was blest,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For faith’s best hopes thou keepedst;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That last sigh sought thy mother’s breast—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Reach’d heaven—and then thou sleepedst.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And where, Kutaissov!⁠<a id="FNanchor_9_19" href="#Footnote_9_19" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> tell us where</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thou in thy bloom alightest?</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">His heart, his countenance were clear</div> + <div class="verse indent2">As virtue when ’tis brightest;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He threw him in the battle ring—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Death dropt its mantle o’er him:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He touch’d the sweet harp’s sweetest string;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Let every string deplore him!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His steed approaches, dyed with gore—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Where is the hand to guide her?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His shield is there, blood-clotted o’er—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The shield—but not the rider.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Where are thy ashes, in what vale,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">What unknown cavern hidden?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For they are sought o’er hill and dale</div> + <div class="verse indent2">By a heart-broken maiden.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There lovelier shines the morning dew,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The sun is brighter glowing;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The breezes they are gentler too,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">More fair the flowrets blowing!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And angel forms at midnight come,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">When mortal eyes are sleeping;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their silent watch around thy tomb</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In mild devotion keeping.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And thou, Bagration!⁠<a id="FNanchor_10_20" href="#Footnote_10_20" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> tears were shed,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And prayers for thee ascended:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Twas all in vain, for thou art dead—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thy hero-race is ended.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From rank to rank our warriors sigh’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">‘God’s mercy shall restore him!’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And oft our foes, despairing, cried,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">‘We yet shall fly before him!’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nay! nay! that noble soul is gone,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">That generous heart is riven;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To join Suvorov, he is flown;—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To all the brave in heaven.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Shades of our heroes! ye are blest,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Ye roam in Eden’s gardens,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where time’s departed chieftains rest,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And angels are the wardens.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Your memory still has left its blaze,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Its holy beamings reach us;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A light which flows to distant days,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">How brave men died to teach us.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Your names still mount above your graves,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Your glories we inherit;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And every unfurl’d flag that waves</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Is pregnant with your spirit.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>WARRIORS.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Your names still soar above your graves,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Your glories we inherit;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And every unfurl’d flag that waves</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Is pregnant with your spirit.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>MINSTREL.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">One glass to vengeance! In the fray</div> + <div class="verse indent2">‘Heaven for the right!’ our voices,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And ‘death or victory!’ proudly say;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And victory’s self rejoices.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O count not on your numbers, foe!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In vain ye boast your numbers;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our march is like the torrent’s flow,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Which never, never slumbers.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We have no treasures, but we bring</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Our arrows and our lances,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">And round us desolation fling—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And death is in our glances.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The Robber! he had spread his power</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Around our Moskva’s borders;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And from our Kremlin’s sacred tower</div> + <div class="verse indent2">He issued forth his orders.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘I trample on the base-born clay,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">‘Which folly’s pride assembles,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘And prince and subject both obey.’</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Insulting one!—he trembles.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For vengeance wakes her from her rest,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And arms her with her torches;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Heaves ruin on the tyrant’s breast,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And drives him from our porches.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Now bring thy slavish princes, now,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To our ice-girded nation;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lead them o’er our paths of snow</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To horror and starvation.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Come, Winter! rouse thee from thy bed,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And close our country’s portals—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O <span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span> +see! he strews the land with dead,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">With piles of frozen mortals.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now, Robber! look what thou hast done;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Come, for the strife prepare thee!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The land we fight on is our own—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">God’s vengeance, wretch! is near thee.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>WARRIORS.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Now, Robber! look what thou hast done;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Come, for the strife prepare thee!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The land we fight on is our own—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And God’s revenge is near thee!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>MINSTREL.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">One glass to friendship’s glory lend,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">That makes all sorrows lighter—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O happy he who owns a friend!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Heaven has no blessing brighter.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our joys to swell, our griefs to share,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">While by life’s storms we’re driven,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our conscience to direct us here,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Our friendly staff for heaven.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">O be <i>the sacred bond</i>⁠<a id="FNanchor_11_21" href="#Footnote_11_21" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> + our guide,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Our law, and our allegiance!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis by our life-blood sanctified,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And we have sworn obedience.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>WARRIORS.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">O be <i>the sacred bond</i> our guide,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Our law, and our allegiance!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis by our life-blood sanctified,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And we have sworn obedience.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>MINSTREL.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">And <i>this</i> to Love!—and break it too—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Its flame shines ever purely!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For love’s sweet smile, and glory’s glow,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">They are twin-sisters surely.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For he whom Heaven has train’d and taught,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">By love’s soft step attended,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose thought still meets another’s thought,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">While heart with heart is blended—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He <span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span> +is the hero—doubt or fear</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Ne’er enter in his bosom—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For doth he not the garland wear</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Of which love wreathed the blossom?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O love! thou art our morning star;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">How oft our steps thou meetest!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy gay light glances, bright and far—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thy songs of all are sweetest:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy breath oft waves our banners high,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And to the fight thou guidest;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou smilest on our victory,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And o’er our dreams presidest.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Look, foeman! on our battle shield,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Our hearts’ love was the giver;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Twas she who wrote upon its field,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">‘Thine—even in death—for ever!’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Fond dreams, which fancy clads in all</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The beauties love can borrow!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She sits behind yon garden wall</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Communing with her sorrow.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Her plaints, her prayers, to heaven ascend,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To thee her thoughts are flying—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now tears, now smiles, embalm her friend,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">‘Ah! perhaps my friend is dying!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When shall I hear his accents—when</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Will fly these days so dreary?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O dawn, sweet morn of joy, again,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For I am well nigh weary.’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O friends! it is a pride to die</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For those whose faith is plighted;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their love is ever hovering nigh,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And we may die delighted.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their name upon our lips shall hang,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">While the death-wound is burning;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And it shall soothe the parting pang,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">While to earth’s bosom turning.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The memory of the maid we love</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Shall, while we’re sinking, brighten,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And seek with us the world above,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Its mansions to enlighten.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>WARRIORS.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">The memory of the maid we love</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Shall, while we’re sinking, brighten—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We’ll bear it to the world above,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Its mansions to enlighten.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>MINSTREL.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Now to the Muse the red-grape press—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The Muse, whose voice of thunder</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gives courage, energy, success,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And tears fear’s chains asunder:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The arrows fly—and young and old</div> + <div class="verse indent2">With shield and sabre arm them—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Midst the death-shower they throw them bold,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For nothing can alarm them.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The minstrel’s song has touch’d their soul,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And valour’s tears are breaking,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While hoary age bursts time’s control,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And youthful strength is waking.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Pride of the elder time, Bojan!⁠<a id="FNanchor_12_22" href="#Footnote_12_22" class="fnanchor">[12]</a>⁠</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Whose harp, though lost to story,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Led on the brave Sclavonian</div> + <div class="verse indent2">With hymns of praise and glory!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy songs prophetic did proclaim</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Peter the Great, the glorious:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Petrov sang Saidunaisky’s name:</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Derzhavin’s lyre victorious</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Its tones of joy and music flung,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Forest of Kama, o’er thee:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Suvorov, thee Derzhavin sung,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Hero of poet worthy.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Old man! O could we hear again</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thy swan-like tones to bless us!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou sangst not idle glory’s strain,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">But vengeance to redress us.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And not for conquest, not for fame,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thy lyre of passion pleaded—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Twas <span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> +struggling for an unstain’d name,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Revenge for rights invaded.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sing, swan! thy song the chain will break</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Which many a land surrounded;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Slavery’s threatenings wax them weak</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Where thy proud notes are sounded.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O honour then the Muses’ sons!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And I—though mean and lowly:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Would that my lyre’s awaken’d tones</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Were all inspired and holy!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the deep valley’s loneliness</div> + <div class="verse indent2">That humble lyre was shrouded:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I heard a voice, ‘To battle press!’</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And to the combat crowded.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Farewell, then, music—joy, farewell!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">I sped me to the battle:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My song—the trumpets’ piercing swell;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">My choir—the cannons’ rattle.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet will I sing the Robber’s fall,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And your bright deeds, elated;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">For even now some whizzing ball</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Perchance with death is fated.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But could my dying hour disperse</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The dreams I loved to cherish?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And crush the spirit of my verse</div> + <div class="verse indent2">With my faint name to perish?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The robber to his fame hath built</div> + <div class="verse indent2">A pile of bloodstain’d iron;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And there your glory and his guilt</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Time’s records shall environ.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>WARRIORS.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Then welcome be the sons of song,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Who bid our victories blossom;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And as our fathers pass along</div> + <div class="verse indent2">With triumph fills their bosom.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>MINSTREL.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Your glasses:—To the God of Might,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Bend on your knees before him:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He led you to the glorious fight,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And saved you—now adore him!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">The shield of virtue is his rod,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">He saves the poor and lowly;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The rock of ages is our God—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">He scathes the proud one’s folly.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Look to the glorious realms above,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Where not a tear e’er started;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And hear from thence that voice of love,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">‘My children! be strong hearted!’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O immortality! thou sea</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Of silence—peaceful portal!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How happy who is launch’d on thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And straight becomes immortal!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O happy they who fall in fight!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For those they leave behind them</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seek through a long and gloomy night</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The grave that might have shrined them.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The son of battle breaks the bond</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Which to the vain world ties him;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Soars to a brighter world beyond,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Where misery never tries him.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But we?—O let us trust in God,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Whate’er our portion given,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To lead us through life’s darksome road</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To happiness and heaven:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Obedient to his holy will,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Scattering all sin before us;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And gently moving forward still,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Till darkness gathers o’er us.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If low our lot—a courage free;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">If high—no scornful blindness;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In strength and power—simplicity;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And universal kindness.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ready obedience where ’tis due—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Our oaths—a sacred token!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To love unshaken, fervent, true,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And friendship’s pledge—unbroken.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To those who sink—a ready hand,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And comfort to the mourning;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For tyrants—valour to withstand,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For treachery—hate and scorning.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">The blaze of truth to shame a lie;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">All honest faith—befriended;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in death’s fight—calm bravery,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And peace—when all is ended.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O God of might! be thou our shield,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Our squadrons lead and rally!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rider and horse to thee must yield,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And perish in the valley.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O God! in our behalf appear—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Our foemen’s ranks be broken;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Come, day of vengeance, dark and drear!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And lo! the Lord has spoken.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I saw him numerous as the sand</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Spread over hills and plains there;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He waved his bright and murderous brand,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And now—no trace remains there.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>WARRIORS.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">I saw him numerous as the sand</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Spread over hills and plains there;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">He waved his bright and murderous brand,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And now—no trace remains there.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>MINSTREL.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">But look! the clouds are brightening now,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The daylight is appearing;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">See! o’er the distant mountain’s brow</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The morning star uprearing.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The twilight breaks—the vapours damp</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The hills are now surrounding;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lo! the slumber-girded camp,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And morning-music sounding.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But soon—but soon—as hours return,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">That band so calmly sleeping,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall fate—her hand is on the urn—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Shall fate prepare for weeping!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O dawn thee not—let darkness try</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thy waking beams to smother!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For ah! to-day shall many an eye</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Mourn o’er a perish’d brother.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Vain prayer—along the mountain’s height</div> + <div class="verse indent2">I hear the thunder roaring;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shouts from the plain announce the fight,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The sun tow’rds heaven is soaring:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The war-steeds rage and foam—anon</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The shock of arms engaging—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The chieftain leads his soldiers on,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And hearts with fire are raging.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">This is no time for wine nor song!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Come, to the battle hurry!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With naked sabre join the song,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For death or triumph’s glory!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yes! ye who love us far away,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Farewell! and if for ever,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Preserve the memory of the day,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And O forget us never!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou, Lord of Lords! our bulwark prove—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Beloved, one sacred greeting:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Here—tender and undying love,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">There—an eternal meeting!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>WARRIORS.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou, Lord of Lords! our bulwark prove—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Beloved, one sacred greeting:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Here—tender and undying love,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">There—an eternal meeting!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="CATHERINE13"> + CATHERINE⁠<a id="FNanchor_13_23" href="#Footnote_13_23" class="fnanchor">[13]</a>⁠. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><i>SVÆTLANA.</i></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">St. Silvester’s evening hour</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Calls the maidens round:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shoes to throw behind the door,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Delve the snowy ground.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Peep behind the window there,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Burning wax to pour;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the corn for chanticleer</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Reckon three times o’er.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the water-fountain fling</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Solemnly the golden ring,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Earrings too of gold;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Kerchief white must cover them</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While we are chanting over them</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Magic songs of old.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Feebly through the vapours shine</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Moonbeams on the hill;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Silently sat Catherine,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Sorrowful and still.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Maiden, why so pensive? we</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Fain thy voice would hear—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Come and join our revelry!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Take the ring, thou dear!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sing ‘Make haste and melt, and bring,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Goldsmith! come with golden ring,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">‘Golden wreath for Kate!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Ring to deck her hand of snow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Wreath to bloom upon her brow</div> + <div class="verse indent2">‘At the altar-gate.’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I can sing no choral song</div> + <div class="verse indent2">While my love’s away;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For my days are sad and long,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Gloomier every day.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Left alone—a year is past—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Not a line to send—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O my life is but a waste,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Sever’d from my friend!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Hast thou then forgotten me?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tell me, wanderer! can it be?</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Where’s thy dwelling—where?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">See, I pine ’neath secret smart:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Guardian angel! watch my heart—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Listen to my prayer!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Cover’d with a napkin white,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Stood a table there;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where a mirror, clear and bright,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Shone amidst the glare.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vacant seats for two were placed—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">‘Look within, O look!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis the hour of spirits—haste!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Read Fate’s opening book:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the mirror turn thy eye,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the door shall silently</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Open—List! ’tis he!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gently shall thy lover glide,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seat him by his maiden’s side,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And shall sup with thee.’</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Cath’rine sat before the glass—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">All alone was she,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Watching all the shades that pass,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Shuddering inwardly.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But the glass is dark and drear,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Still as death the room;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Scarce a fading taper there</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Flitted midst the gloom.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O how fear her bosom shook!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Backwards then she dared not look!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Dread had dimm’d her sight:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the dying tapers’ noise,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the cricket’s chirping voice,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Cried—’tis middle-night!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Breathless terror chill’d her o’er,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And she shades her brow:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">List! a knock is at the door,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And it opens now:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the mirror then she turn’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Stupefied with fear;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their two brilliant eyeballs burn’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Ever bent on her.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Horror heaved her breast, when lo!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gentle accents, sweet and slow,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Glided on her ear:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘All thy wishes are fulfill’d—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All thy spirit’s sighs be still’d—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">’Tis thy lover, dear!’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Cath’rine look’d—her lover’s arms</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Were around her thrown:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Maiden! banish all alarms,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">We are ever one!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Come! the priest is waiting now,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Life with life to blend;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Torches in the chapel glow,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Bridal songs ascend.’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Cath’rine smiled—her lover led—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O’er the snow-clad court they sped,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And the portals gain;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There a ready sledge they found—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Two fleet coursers stamp the ground,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Struggling with the rein.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Onwards! like the winds they go,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">When the storm awakes;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Scattering round them clouds of snow,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">While the pathway shakes.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All was dark and wild as night,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Terrible, and new:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mist-wreaths dimm’d the pale moon’s light,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Plains were drench’d in dew.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fear again possess’d the maid,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in gentlest tones she said,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">‘Speak—my lover true!’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He was silent then—but soon</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turn’d him to the wintry moon,—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Pale and paler grew.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Through the snow—a mountain’s height—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Next the wild steeds pass’d;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And a church appear’d in sight,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">’Midst a gloomy waste:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then a whirlwind burst the door—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Men are there who mourn;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Clouds of incense rolling o’er,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Waxen tapers burn.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Lo! a black sepulchral shroud—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Dust to dust!’ the priest aloud</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Chants—the horses flew</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tow’rds the door—her agony</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rose—he spoke no word—but he</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Pale and paler grew.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Clouds of snow ascend again—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Lo! the coursers fly;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And a raven on the plain</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Croaks, and passes by;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Twas an awful, ominous sound!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And the moonlight wanes;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Darkness wraps the desert round</div> + <div class="verse indent2">O’er the steaming manes.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">See! a glimmering light is there,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And upon the heather bare</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Stands a humble shed.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Swifter—swifter flew the car,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whirl’d the snow around it far,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">But no farther sped.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">At the door they stopp’d anon,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">There—a moment stood:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Steeds—sledge—bridegroom—all are gone:</div> + <div class="verse indent2">All is solitude.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Catherine on the waste was left,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Midst dense clouds of snow;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of her lover now bereft,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To commune with woe:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But she hears a footstep now,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turns, and sees a taper glow;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Crosses her, and stalks</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Trembling to the door—and knocks:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of itself the door unlocks—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In the maiden walks.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There, upon a winding sheet,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Lay a mortal bier;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Christ’s bright image at its feet</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Shone resplendent there.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whither—whither art thou come,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Maiden, all unblest?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou hast sought a wretched home,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Art a hapless guest!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Catherine to the image flies,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wipes the snow-dust from her eyes,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Bends her down and weeps;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Presses to her breast the cross—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thoughts of heaven her soul engross,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And she silence keeps.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">All is still!—The storm is hush’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Faint the tapers beam,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Light across the chamber rush’d—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Momentary gleam:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All is wrapt in silence deep</div> + <div class="verse indent2">As when visions come.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">List! what gentle rustlings sweep</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Through the hallow’d room:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lo! a dove of silvery white,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Soft and still, with eyes of light,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Tow’rds the mourner springs:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For a moment hovers there,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then upon her bosom fair</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Flaps his beauteous wings.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Silence reign’d again.—Can all,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">All illusion be?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lo! the corpse beneath the pall</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Shudders fearfully:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bursts the mantling bier of death,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Throws his shroudings by:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On his brow he wore a wreath,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Frozen was his eye:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From his lips a murmur breaks,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With his hand a sign he makes,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Pointing to the maid:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Trembling she—she dared not move—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But the bright and silver dove</div> + <div class="verse indent2">On her bosom play’d.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Fann’d her with its gentle wing:—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To the dead man’s breast</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then she saw her sweet dove spring—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">There it seem’d to rest.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Heaved that icy corpse a sigh,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">As in dark despair,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gnash’d his teeth in agony,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Turn’d his eyes on her.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Paler wax’d those lips so pale;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the fix’d eye told the tale</div> + <div class="verse indent2">That life’s film was broke.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Catherine! lift thy drooping head!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All is o’er—thy lover’s dead!—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">God!——and she awoke.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Where?—within the self-same room</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Where the mirror stood:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Morn was chasing twilight’s gloom</div> + <div class="verse indent2">With its golden flood;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Chanticleer had flapp’d his wings,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Sung his early song:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All is bright—the matin rings—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">O thy dream was long!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Long indeed, and dreadful too;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And my spirit long shall rue</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The dread prophecy!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tell me, Future’s misty night,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall my fate be dark or bright,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Bliss or misery?</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Catherine in the window sat,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Sorrowful and still:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tell me—tell me what is <i>that</i>?</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Mist-cloud on the hill?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the sunbeams shines the snow;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Leaps the frozen dew:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">List! I hear the bells below,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And the horses too.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lo! they come—the sledge is near—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now the Isvoshchik’s voice I hear—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">They have pass’d the grove:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fling the gates wide open—fling—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who’s the guest the coursers bring?</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Who?—’Tis thou, my love!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Catherine, tell me now! <i>The dream</i>—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Is the dream forgot?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Youths may faithful be—who seem</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Faithless—may they not?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When the light of love hath lent</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Brightness to his eye;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When his lips are eloquent;—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Timid maid! reply!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Open now the temple-gate,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Spring on wings of joy elate,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Truth, we honour thee!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pour the glass, and join the hymn,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ne’er may days of darkness dim</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Youth’s fidelity.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou dost smile, sweet maid! but deem,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Deem it worth a thought;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For that memorable dream</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Stores of wisdom brought.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou dost smile again—but know,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">It had lessons holy:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fame, it told thee, was but—show;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Worldly wisdom—folly.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This my song was meant to say,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hope and trust, should guide our way—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Maid! there’s no mistaking:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This the genuine moral seems,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Miseries—are only dreams,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Joy—is the awaking.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O my Cath’rine! never dwell</div> + <div class="verse indent2">On that dream of gloom;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Heaven! build up her citadel,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">There may grief ne’er come;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Not a cloud her joys o’ershade,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Not a joy decay;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Holy is that gentle maid</div> + <div class="verse indent2">As the light of day.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ne’er be it obscur’d by woe,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let her days of comfort flow</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Like a forest river;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And let joy, with smiles serene,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Be as it hath ever been,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Her bright guide for ever.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="THEON_AND_AESCHINES"> + THEON AND ÆSCHINES. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">To his country’s penates wends Æschines home,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To the mist-cover’d land of Alpheus;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He long had sought happiness o’er the wide world,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">But happiness fled—like a shadow.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And Bacchus and Venus, and pleasure and fame,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">His heart had consumed—not contented;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The blossom of life had decay’d like his soul,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And hope had been banish’d by sadness.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The stream of the wavy Alpheus appears,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Alpheus, with flower-bedeck’d borders,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And wakes all the thoughts of the days hurried by,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And of youth-tide, for ever departed!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">All the banks are as fair, all the fields are as bright,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And the sky smiles delighted above him;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But where is that hope which shed o’er them a ray,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">A ray of ineffable beauty?</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The dwelling of Theon now Æschines seeks;—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">He dwelt in a peace-girded cottage;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His wishes all bounded, and moderate his hopes—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">He dwelt on the shores of Alpheus.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">’Twas just where Alpheus springs into the sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">With olive trees deck’d and plantanas,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That Æschines saw a humble abode—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">It was the mean dwelling of Theon.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">In the hot arch of Heaven the day-tide declined,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The calm stream of waters was glowing;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A rosy smile play’d round the humble abode,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Where the myrtles of fragrance were blooming.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">A white grave of marble, with myrtle-wreaths hung,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Appears on a gentle mound rising;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where roses of fragrance, and jasmin’s pale flowers,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Their branches entwined, interblended.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Theon sat near his hut;—he was lost in deep thought,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">While he look’d on the purple-tinged billow;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Then suddenly turn’d on his Æschines—saw,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And remember’d his youthful companion.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘To Zeus—Preserver! be honour and praise!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Again dost thou see thy penates!’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Cried Theon—while rapture shone bright in his eye,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">As he Æschines press’d to his bosom.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And with glances look’d through him again and again,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">His visage was troubled and gloomy:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Æschines mournfully gazed on his friend,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">His gaze it was calm, but was mournful.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O Theon! when first I abandon’d thee here,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Hope painted me visions of pleasure;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Far different my fate from my dreams—I have found</div> + <div class="verse indent2">That hope is a faithless deceiver.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘And tell me, my Theon, has such been thy fate,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For such doth thy visage betoken?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Have sorrow and sadness intruded on thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And thy peaceful, domestic penates?’</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Theon groan’d in his spirit, and look’d to the grave,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">‘These, these are the silent recorders,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If God lent us life to be wasted in joy—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Ah! life is the sister of sorrow.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O no! I complain not of Zeus’ decrees,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For life and the world beam with beauty;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But bliss that is fleeting, and dreams that are vain,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">I chase not for earthly enjoyment.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘What time can create, and what time can destroy,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Why call we our own;—it was never;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis the soul’s own possession, the spirit of love,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The thoughts that sublimely transport us.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘These, these are true bliss!—Friend, this is no dream,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">I, Æschines! loved and was happy;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Twas love that refined and enraptured my soul—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And that taught me the pleasure of living.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Midst twilight sublimest conceptions appear’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Creation I saw in its glory,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">And felt that my pilgrimage led through the world</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To something far brighter above it.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Woe is me! for I loved—she is gone—she is gone—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And the bliss is for ever departed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That dawn’d with such lustre—how vainly it dawn’d!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">How gaily—how swiftly it faded!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O no! nought erases the track of the past,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In the heart it for ever endureth.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sorrow of parting!—That, that too is love!—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And the heart loses nought of its treasure.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘And is not the pang which e’en death leaves behind</div> + <div class="verse indent2">A germ which hope, bright and eternal,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Awakes; while the known, but the mist-cover’d land,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Gives back all we loved to our mem’ry.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘For he who has loved, and loved truly, my friend!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Can never, can never be lonely;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The world when <i>she</i> blossom’d, with <i>her</i> is still fill’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Ever present, unchang’d and immortal.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Alone I tread onward the path of my doom,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To its boundary sublime ever tending;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She led me—she leads me—together we toil,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">’Tis the bond which not death could dissever.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Thoughts pure and sublime throw a charm over life!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And with ecstasy oft I look round me</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the fair face of earth, that is smiling with good,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">On the wonderful, glorious creation.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘And peaceful I turn from the markstone of death</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To the visions which hail me immortal;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And hope lights with glory the dulness of earth,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">As Aurora the canopied heaven.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘’Tis hope that exalts me far, far above fate,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And hallows this earthly existence;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the thought, the proud thought I am <i>man</i>, swells my breast</div> + <div class="verse indent2">With gratitude, triumph, and glory.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘This silent, this mystical gravestone, to me,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">My friend! is a pledge and a token,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">That the being which faith has depictured shall dawn</div> + <div class="verse indent2">As sure as the past is departed.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘This grave is the door—the lock’d door of delight—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Will it open?—I hope, and expect it:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On <i>that</i> side the pris’ner is waiting, who here</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For a moment was seen—and departed.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O friend! thou pursuest a false, fleeting good,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thou snatchest the joy of a moment,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou losest the bliss that is sure and sublime,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And a life that is priceless despisest.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘This feeling of gloom, it benightens the earth—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Give your hand!—In the bosom of friendship</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let the world, and let nature be lovely again,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For, believe me, the earth is most lovely.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘When life was conferr’d, <i>all</i>, <i>all</i> was conferr’d—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">’Tis the path, ’tis the promise of greatness;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sorrow and joy, they are means to that end—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Praise Zeus—O praise the Creator!’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="THE_BARD"> + THE BARD. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Through the dark wood seest thou that thorn-crown’d heap,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That o’er the lingering rivulet seems to rest;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where the still stream glides by, as if in sleep,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And scarce a leaf is by the zephyr prest:</div> + <div class="verse indent4">There hangs a harp—a garland, see!</div> + <div class="verse indent4">That heap—it is a minstrel’s bed:</div> + <div class="verse indent4">There are his ashes scattered—</div> + <div class="verse indent8">Bard! woe is thee!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">His soul was lovely—infant purity</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dwelt in his heart—a fleeting pilgrim, driven</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By life’s first gales o’er seas of misery,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sighing and longing for death’s silent haven—</div> + <div class="verse indent4">That haven reach’d he speedily:</div> + <div class="verse indent4">He sleeps death’s sleep—so dark, so dull—</div> + <div class="verse indent4">His life was short, but sorrowful—</div> + <div class="verse indent8">Bard! woe is thee!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He sang the song of friendship loud and sweet—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But ah! the friend is gone;—his holy strain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Breathed of pure love—’twas sad, though exquisite,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For he knew nought of love but love’s deep pain!</div> + <div class="verse indent4">All slumbers now—all—silently,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Young bard! with thee—thy music’s breath</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Is still—still’d by the frown of death:—</div> + <div class="verse indent8">Bard! woe is thee!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Here, by this shrine, when the tir’d sun was setting</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In melancholy brightness, thus he pour’d</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His farewell hymn, ‘Fair world! thy charms forgetting,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘I leave thee, and for ever!—I adored</div> + <div class="verse indent4">‘A wild dream’s shade—an ecstasy!</div> + <div class="verse indent4">‘’Tis past!—Thou lyre! be still—my hand</div> + <div class="verse indent4">‘Is chill’d—I seek a brighter land:—</div> + <div class="verse indent8">‘Bard! woe is thee!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘That wild dream fled—what else is left?—the sky</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O’erclouded—the storm raging—an abyss</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Yawning around—hopes that just smile, and fly</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘To darkness—solid woes, and shadowy bliss.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span> + <div class="verse indent4">‘Haven of peace! for me, for me</div> + <div class="verse indent4">‘Prepare thy welcome, grave, whose road,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">‘Though misty, leads to joy’s abode!</div> + <div class="verse indent8">‘Bard! woe is thee!’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Yes! he is fled—that magic harp is still,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His footstep-traces now are worn away;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sorrow dwells on stream, and vale, and hill—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And silence, save when thoughtless zephyrs play</div> + <div class="verse indent4">With the dried wreath that carelessly</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Hangs—or in twilight’s feeble ray</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Some spirit bids the harp-strings say,</div> + <div class="verse indent8">Bard! woe is thee!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span></p> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3 id="FOOTNOTES_2"> + FOOTNOTES: +</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_1_11" href="#FNanchor_1_11" class="label">[1]</a> Zhukovsky accompanied the Russian army from Moscow. +He wrote this piece just before the battle on the Tarutina.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_2_12" href="#FNanchor_2_12" class="label">[2]</a> These words are attributed by the old Russian historians to +the great Duke Svatoslav Sgorevich, and are said to have led to +one of his most brilliant victories over the Greeks. “Let us not +shame our Russian land—Let our bones lie here—There is no +disgrace in dying!”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_3_13" href="#FNanchor_3_13" class="label">[3]</a> Dmitrij Ivanovich (of the Don), the saviour of his country +from Tartarian slavery. Ever since the unfortunate battle of +Kalka (1223), the hopes of redemption seemed feeble and distant. +He assembled his troops, and defeated the countless hosts of Mamai +on the shores of the Don.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_4_14" href="#FNanchor_4_14" class="label">[4]</a> Mazeppa.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_5_15" href="#FNanchor_5_15" class="label">[5]</a> Prince Smolensko.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_6_16" href="#FNanchor_6_16" class="label">[6]</a> Before the battle of Borodino an eagle hovered round his +head, and was observed by the whole army, who set up a general +shout of joy.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_7_17" href="#FNanchor_7_17" class="label">[7]</a> Baggovuth was killed in the battle of the Tarutina.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_8_18" href="#FNanchor_8_18" class="label">[8]</a> Near Lutzin, where he had passed his boyhood, and where his +mother yet lived.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_9_19" href="#FNanchor_9_19" class="label">[9]</a> Kutaissov was a young poet of considerable talents: he was +killed at the battle of Borodino. His horse was seen wildly galloping +about, covered with blood; and his body could not be discovered +for a long time.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_10_20" href="#FNanchor_10_20" class="label">[10]</a> Bagration received his mortal wound at the battle of Borodino; +but it was for a long time expected that he would recover.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_11_21" href="#FNanchor_11_21" class="label">[11]</a> Holy Alliance.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_12_22" href="#FNanchor_12_22" class="label">[12]</a> Of Bojan little is known. He is supposed to have accompanied +the Russians in the dark ages, and to have excited them to +valour with his magic lyre.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_13_23" href="#FNanchor_13_23" class="label">[13]</a> I have adopted the word Catherine. <span class="smcap">Svætlana</span> does not +easily accommodate itself to our organs of sense.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Karamsin"> + Karamsin. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118"></a><a id="Page_119"></a>[119]</span></p> +</div> + + +<h3 id="RAISSA"> + RAÏSSA. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">In the dark night the storm-wind rages,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The gray flash trembles in the sky;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rolls from the blackening clouds the thunder,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And rattling torrents sweep the wood.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">No signs of life, of living beings,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The welcoming roof had shelter’d all,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All but one lost and lonely wanderer—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Raïssa—to the dark night bare.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Despair was seated in her bosom;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The thunder-tempest moved her not;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And even the hurricane’s loud howling</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Scarce drown’d Raïssa’s heavy plaints.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Her cheek was like the faded foliage,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her lip—th’ unwater’d, withering flow’r;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Upon her eye—a veil of darkness,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And fearful were her bosom’s throbs.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There hurried from her snowy bosom,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which savage, thorny boughs had torn,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of burning blood a crimson rivulet—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It fell upon the green damp ground.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Above the sea, a granite mountain</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Raised proudly its gigantic head;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Raïssa scaled it, wandering lonely</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Through clefts and stony pyramids.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The deep raged furiously—the lightning</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Frightfully flash’d;—the mountain-waves</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Roll’d, lifting up their maddening voices;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the earth trembled as they spoke.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Raïssa look’d around—was silent:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But soon her tones of sorrow burst,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">And mingled with the raging tempest—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Lost—lost for ever! Woe is me!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Kronīd—Kronīd—O cruel lover!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O whither, whither art thou fled?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Why hast thou left thy own Raïssa</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Alone in such a dreadful night?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Kronīd—return—return—forgiveness,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Forgetfulness, shall both be thine:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No!—Thou wilt come not to Raïssa—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Why did I know thee—wherefore love?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘My father and my mother loved me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And fondest love was their return;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My days roll’d by, on downy pinions,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Midst harmless sports and joyous thoughts.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Thou didst approach me like an angel,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, sighing, these sweet words didst say:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">“I love thee—yes! I love—Raïssa!”</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My parents’ love I soon forgot.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Transported, yet with trembling bosom,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And weeping in that dream of bliss,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Into thy opening arms I threw me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And gave my heart alone to thee.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘On thee reposed and dwelt my spirit,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I breathed, I lived for thee alone;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sun in thy sweet smile was beaming,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou wert my present deity.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Why, when thy bosom beat with rapture,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Why died I not—in transports then:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Had I not seen thee false and treacherous,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How sweet, how blessed ’twere to die.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘But ah! while thus securely dreaming</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In deepest sleep, another maid</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Loved and was loved—and I am banished—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Banished is thy Raïssa now.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘I thought I lay upon his bosom—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I stretch’d my arms t’ embrace him there—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I <span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span> +but embraced the heedless breezes—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He was already far away.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘The dream was fled—and I awoke me—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I call’d thee—all was still as death:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I sought thee with strain’d eye—but vainly—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My friend, my friend was no where found.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘I hurried to a mountain-summit,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I—hapless-spirited! Kronīd</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is fled afar with his Liudmilla!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then sank I senseless on the earth.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘And since that miserable moment</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My days, my nights in sorrow flow;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I seek thee—every where I call thee—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But never hast thou heard my voice.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘And now the spirit-worn Raïssa</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Calls on thee for the last, last time;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For peace has left my soul for ever.—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Farewell! and be without me blest!’</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">So spoke Raïssa—and she threw her</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Into the sea. The thunder roar’d:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The heavens announced that she had perish’d</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To him that had destroy’d her there.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="THE_HAVEN"> + THE HAVEN. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">When the dangerous rocks are past,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When the threatening tempests cease,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O how sweet to rest at last</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In a silent port of peace!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Though that port may be unknown,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Though no chart its name may bear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Brightly beam its lights on <i>one</i>—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Blest to find his refuge there.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There he paints the joyous band—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Friends and family—what more?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bliss!—he cries—thou hallow’d land!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And he springs upon the shore.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Life! thou art the storm—the rock!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Death! the friendly port thou art:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Haven from the tempest shock,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Welcoming the wanderer’s heart.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Yes! I see from yonder tomb</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Promised peace and tranquil rest:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Death! my haven! I shall come,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Soothe me on thy mother-breast.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="SONG_OF_THE_GOOD_TZAR"> + SONG OF THE GOOD TZAR. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><i>Pæsnya o dobrom Tzaræ.</i></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Russia had a noble Tzar,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sovereign honour’d wide and far;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He a father’s love enjoy’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He a father’s power employ’d.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And he sought his children’s bliss,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And their happiness was his:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Left for them his golden halls,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Left for them his palace walls.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He, a wanderer for them,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Left his royal diadem:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Staff and knapsack all his treasure;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Toil and danger all his pleasure.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherefore hath he journey’d forth,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From his glorious, sceptred north?</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Flying pride, and pomp, and power;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Suffering heat, and cold, and shower.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Why?—because this noble king,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Light and truth and bliss might bring,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Spread intelligence, and pour</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Knowledge out on Russia’s shore.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherefore would this noble king</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Light and truth and virtue bring,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Spread intelligence, and pour</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Knowledge out on Russia’s shore?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He would guide by wisdom’s ray</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All his subjects in their way;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And while beams of glory giving,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Teach them all the arts of living.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O thou noble King and Tzar!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Earth ne’er saw so bright a star—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tell me, have ye ever found</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Such a prince the world around?</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="TO_-"> + TO ——. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Where art thou lingering, tell me, thou fair one?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There where the nightingale wakes her soft music,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">In the night’s darkness complaining</div> + <div class="verse indent4">From the top boughs of the myrtle?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There, where in solitude murmurs the streamlet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gliding along its green borders unnoticed,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Soothing man’s turbulent bosom</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Gently to peace and to silence?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There, where the rose in its pride and its glory</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Blushes, bedew’d with the tears of the morning,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">While with the breezes disporting;</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Whispering its thoughts to the zephyrs?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There, where the sun first illumines the mountain—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Heights inaccessible—cloud-fashion’d palace—</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Where, in the ages departed,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Spirits and gods had their dwellings?</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Oft have I heard thy sweet voice gently speaking,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Oft on thy throne of bright clouds have I seen thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Stretch’d out my arms to embrace thee—</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Ah!—I had seized but a shadow.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="TO_THE_NIGHTINGALE"> + TO THE NIGHTINGALE. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Sing in the forest’s leafy night,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gentle bird—unnoticed sing;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sing in Luna’s silver light,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tones of sorrow echoing.</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Tell me why my tears are falling</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like a rivulet—tell me why</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Memory, when the past recalling,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Blends thee with the days gone by?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ah! those hallow’d friends I number,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who upon earth’s peaceful breast</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In death’s tomb of silence slumber!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Green moss decks their place of rest.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All their turfs, sweet flowers adorn them,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I am left alone to mourn them—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Still I mourn them—still regret—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Therefore like a rivulet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Flow my tears—with whom shall I</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now thy sweetest strains enjoy?</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Who shall greet the spring with me?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Spring is winter—wanting thee.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now my soul must bow, subdued,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Life has no vicissitude;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All is dark—my heart is weary—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the world—all waste and dreary.</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Tell me, lovely nightingale,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When thy gentle song will fall</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On my grave? for O its breath</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is meet melody for death.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Dolgorukov"> + Dolgorukov. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134"></a><a id="Page_135"></a>[135]</span></p> + +</div> + + +<h3 id="THE_LEGACY"> + THE LEGACY. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">When time’s vicissitudes are ended</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Be this, be this my place of rest;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Here let my bones with earth be blended,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Till sounds the trumpet of the blest.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For here, in common home, are mingled</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their dust, whom fame or fortune singled;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And those whom fortune—fame pass’d by:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All mingled—and all mouldering;—folly</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And wisdom—mirth and melancholy—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Slaves—tyrants—all mixt carelessly.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">List! ’tis the voice of time—Creation’s</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unmeasured arch repeats the tone;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Look! even like shadows, mighty nations</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Are born—flit by us—and are gone!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">See! children of a common father,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">See stranger-crowds, like vapors gather;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sires—sons—descendants—come and go:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sad history! Yet even there the spirit</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Some joys may build—some hopes inherit,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And wisdom gather flowers from woe.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There, like a bee-swarm, round the token</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of unveil’d truth, shall sects appear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And evil’s poisonous sting be broken</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the bright glance of virtue’s spear.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And none shall ask—What dormitory</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was this man’s doom—what robes of glory</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wore he—what garlands crown’d his brow—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Was pomp his slave?—Come, now discover</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The heart, the soul—Delusion’s over—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What was his <i>conduct</i>?—Answer now!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Where stands yon hill-supported tower,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By Fili, shall I wake again,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Summon’d to meet Almighty Power</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In judgment—like my fellow men.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">I shall be there—and friends and brothers—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sisters and children—fathers, mothers,—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With joy that never shall decay;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The soul, substantial blessings beaming,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">(All here is shadowy and seeming)</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Drinks bliss—no time can sweep away.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Friends, on my brow, that rests when weary,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Erect no proud and pompous pile:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Your monuments are vain and dreary,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their splendour cannot deck the vile.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A green grave, by no glare attended,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With other dust and ashes blended,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O let my dust and ashes lie;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There, as I sleep, time, never sleeping,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall gather ages to his keeping,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For such is nature’s destiny.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">My wife, my children shall inherit</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All I possess’d—’twas mine—’tis theirs;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For death, that steals the living spirit,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gives all earth’s fragments to its heirs.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Send round no circling-briefs of sorrow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No garments of the raven borrow;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis idle charge—’tis costly pride.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Be gay, through rain or frosty weather,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor gather idle priests together</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To chaunt my humble grave beside.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Cry, orphans!—cry, ye poor!—imploring</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The everlasting God, that <i>He</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0">May save me when I sink—adoring—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Amidst his boundless mercy-sea.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My blessing to my foes be given,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their curses far from me be driven,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor break upon my hallow’d bliss;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">God needs no studied words from mortals,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A sigh may enter Heaven’s wide portals—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He could not err—He taught us this.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">No songs, no elegy—death hearkens</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To music ne’er though sweet it be:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When o’er you night’s oblivion darkens,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then let oblivion shadow me.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">No verse will soften Hades’ sadness,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No verse can break on Eden’s gladness,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis all parade, and shifting glare:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A stream—where scatter’d trees are growing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A secret tear—in silence flowing—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No monument as these so fair.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Such slumber here—their memory flashes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Across my thoughts.—Hail—Sister! hail—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I kiss thy sacred bed of ashes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And soon shall share thy mournful tale.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou hast paid thy earthly debts—’tis ended—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy cradle and thy tomb are blended,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The circle of thy being run;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And now in peace thy history closes,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And thy still’d, crumbling frame reposes</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where life’s short, feverish play is done.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I live and toil—my thoughts still follow</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The idle world:—my cares pursue</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dreams and delusions, baseless, hollow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And vanities still false though new.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Then fly I earthly joys—I find them</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Leave terror-working stings behind them:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Beware! beware!’ experience cries;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet ah! how faint the voice of duty,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One smile of yonder flattering beauty</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Would make me waste even centuries.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Batiushkov"> + Batiushkov. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142"></a><a id="Page_143"></a>[143]</span></p> +</div> + + +<h3 id="TO_F_F_KOKOSHKIN"> + TO F. F. KOKOSHKIN, +</h3> + +<p class='center allsmcap'>ON THE DEATH OF HIS BRIDE.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ah! the flower is dead—the beauty is departed—</div> + <div class="verse indent10">All is fled we cherished;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love and Friendship, weep! Weep, Hymen, broken-hearted!</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Happiness is perished.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Friendship! thy swift hands, with smiles and joys, array’d her</div> + <div class="verse indent10">In her living glory;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now, with sighs and tears, those trembling hands have laid her</div> + <div class="verse indent10">In earth’s dormitory.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Plant the cypress there, the yew’s dark umbrage borrow,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">For such shade is meetest;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Scatter wreaths, which youth shall dew with tears of sorrow,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">For youth’s tears are sweetest.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">All is gloomy round—the gale, while it reposes,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Drops its tone of gladness:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And some shadowy ghost strips all the budding roses—</div> + <div class="verse indent10">’Tis the shrine of sadness.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Hymen lingers here—pale, fetter’d, chill’d, despairing,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Bent by grief undying:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">See his folded arms, bent eyes—his torch, yet flaring,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">On the grave is lying.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="THE_FAREWELL"> + THE FAREWELL. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Bent o’er his sabre, torrents starting</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From his dim eyes, the bold hussar</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thus greets his cherish’d maid, while parting</div> + <div class="verse indent4">For distant fields of war:</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Weep not, my fair one! O forbear thee!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No anguish can those tears remove;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For, by my troth and beard, I swear thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Time shall not change my love.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘That love shall bloom—a deathless blossom,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My shield in fight—with sword in hand,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And thou, my Lila, in my bosom,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">What shall that sword withstand?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Weep not, my fair one! O forbear thee!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Those tears can bid no grief depart;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And were I faithless, Maid! I swear thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Anguish would tear my heart!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Then my good steed would sure betray me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And falter in the battle-fray,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In peril’s hours refuse t’ obey me—</div> + <div class="verse indent4">My stirrup would give way.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘The sword, my valour’s proudest token,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When grasp’d, like rotten wood would break;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And I should seek thee, spirit-broken,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Death’s paleness on my cheek.’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But the false horseman’s steed obey’d him,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gentle and eager still;—his sword,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bright and unbroken, ne’er betray’d him,</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Though he broke oath and word.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The tale of love—the tears which shower’d</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From Lila’s eye—were all forgot;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The rose-wreath faded—pale—deflower’d:—</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Such buds re-blossom not!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">That maiden’s breast of peace he rifles;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then hies him to another’s breast;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Man’s oaths to woman are but—trifles;</div> + <div class="verse indent4">And love itself—a jest.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He serves—secures—and then he slights them;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His vows are change—and treachery;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For laughing Cupid’s arrow writes them</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Upon the shifting sea.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="THE_FRIENDS_SHADOW"> + THE FRIEND’S SHADOW. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Sunt aliquid manes; letum non omnia finit;</i></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><i>Luridaque evictos effugit umbra rogos.</i></div> +<p class="right"> + <span class="smcap">Propertius.</span> +</p> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">To Albion’s misty isle across the waves I sped me:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It look’d as if interr’d beneath a leaden sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And gathering round our bark the halcyon’s music led me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While all the crew rejoiced in their sweet melody.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The dancing surge, the evening breezes falling,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And through the sails and shrouds those breezes whistling thrill,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And to the watch the active helmsman calling,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The watch, who, midst the roar, sleeps tranquilly and still.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All seem’d to rock itself to gentle thought;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like an enchanted one, I, from the mast, look’d forth,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And through the night and through the mist I sought,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I sought the star beloved of my domestic north.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Then into memory melted every feeling—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My soul had sanctified my home of joy and peace,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the sea raging, and the zephyrs gently stealing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Cover’d my eyelids o’er with self-forgetfulness.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then dreams with other dreams were blended,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And lo! there stood—was it a dream?—the form</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of that dear friend who his career had ended</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nobly, amidst the thundering battle storm.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He stood upon the mist, and smiled—his face,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fresh as the morn and bloodless, shining</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like the young spring in gaiety and grace,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Even as an angel from high heaven declining:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Comrade of better time! and is it thou?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And is it thou?’ I cried, ‘thou hero bright!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Did I not in the fury of the fight</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Attend thee—and when thou hadst fallen below</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Make thy new grave—and on a neighbouring tree</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Write with my sword thy feats of bravery,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And follow’d thy cold ashes to their bed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And hallow’d it with prayers, and with tears watered?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Speak, unforgotten one! speak! was it a deceit?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is all that’s past a dream—a cheating dream?</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">A dream that corpse—a dream that grave—that sheet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wrapt round thee—were they not—did they but <i>seem</i>?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O but one word! let that tongue’s melody</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet sweetly fall on my transported ear:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O unforgotten one! stretch out to me</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy old right hand of friendship—stretch it here.’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I sprung towards him—Oh! the mists had dimm’d my eye—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He vanish’d like a shade—a lock of airy smoke—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dispersed in the wide azure of the sky,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And I, arousing from my dream, awoke.</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Beneath the wing of stillness all was sleeping;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The very winds—the very waves, at rest;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And scarce a breath upon the sea was creeping;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The pale moon swam along upon the white cloud’s breast.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But I was troubled—peace had left my soul—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I stretch’d my hands tow’rds him, whom I no more could see—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I called on him—whom I could not control—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On thee—belov’d one! best of friends! on thee!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="LOVE_IN_A_BOAT"> + LOVE IN A BOAT. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis a calm and silent even,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Luna rests upon the sea;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">See! the impelling breeze has driven,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Driven a little bark to me.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">What a lovely child is seated</div> + <div class="verse indent2">At the helm—a trembling child!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Thou wilt perish, boy ill-fated!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Whelm’d among the surges wild.’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Help me! help me! gentle stranger!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">All my strength, alas! is gone:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Take the helm—conduct the ranger</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To some harbour of thy own.’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Pity’s warmth, that never freezes,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Bid me seize the helm:—we sped,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wafted by awakening breezes,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">As by feather’d arrows led.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Swiftly, swiftly then we glided</div> + <div class="verse indent2">By the flowery shores along;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Reach’d a spot where joy presided,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Smiling nymphs, and dance and song.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Music welcomed us and laughter,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Garlands at our feet were thrown;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then I look’d my wanderer after—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">I was left—the bark was gone.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">On the stormy shore I laid me,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Careless of the surge’s spray;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sought the child who had betray’d me,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Saw him laugh—and row away.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Lo! he beckons—lo! he urges—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Through the noisy waves I fly:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Off he speeds across the surges,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Laughing out with louder joy.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Wet and weary, I retreated</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To the scene of revelry:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Twas <span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> +a fairy dream that cheated—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">All was blank obscurity.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Wanderer! if that boat should ever</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Meet thy vision, O be coy!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis delusive—trust him never—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Cupid is a wicked boy.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="THE_PRISONER"> + THE PRISONER. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There, where the swift Rhone’s waters flow</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Its verdant banks between;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where fragrant myrtles bending grow,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And Rhone reflects their green;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There, where the vineyards deck the hills,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And o’er the valleys spread,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which golden citrons’ fragrance fills,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And plantains rear their head—</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There stood, as sunk the lord of day,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Upon the smiling shore,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One who long watch’d the waters play,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And thought his sorrows o’er;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A Russian hero—stolen by war,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The honour of the Don;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Divided from his friends afar,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">He wander’d there alone.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O roll!’ he sang, ‘ye waters roll—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Flow in your glory on;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Your waves shall waken on my soul</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The memory of the Don.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My days pass by without an aim,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Amidst life’s busy roar;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For what is life without its fame,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Or the bright world?—’tis poor.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Now nature wears its spring-tide dress,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The sun shines splendidly;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All liberty and loveliness—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">O! why am I not free?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O roll, ye waters! rage, thou Rhone!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And waken, as ye roll,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The thoughts of my domestic zone</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Within my troubled soul.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘The maidens here are fair and bright,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Their glance is full of fire;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And their all-graceful smiles of light</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Might satisfy desire.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">But what is love in foreign lands,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Or joy?—I only know</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The joy and love that bless our sands,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Midst forests and midst snow.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Give me my freedom—let me tread</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Once more my country’s strand;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With frost and storm all overspread—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">My home—my father-land!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Deep is the snow around my door;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">But give me my own steed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And day and night, the mountains o’er,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Me to my home he’ll lead.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘At home, there’s one who sits and keeps</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The memory of her love;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And often to the window creeps,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And pours her prayers above.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She guards the thoughts of him whose mind</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Guards every thought of her;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She pats the horse I left behind—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">How privileged to be there!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O roll, thou Rhone! ye waters roll—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Rush in your glory on;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Your waves still waken in my soul</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The memory of the Don.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Come, winds! come hither from the north,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Come, in your freshness, come:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And thou bright pole-star blazen forth,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Memento of my home!’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">So spake the prisoner, as he turn’d</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To Lyons his tired eye,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When long in exile’s chains he mourn’d</div> + <div class="verse indent2">His hapless destiny.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He sang—the Rhone roll’d proudly on,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The moon oft kiss’d its tide;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And oft on Lyons’ turrets shone</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The sun in all his pride.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="TO_THE_RHINE"> + TO THE RHINE. +</h3> + +<p class='center allsmcap'>FRAGMENT.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Here, in the misty days of time departed,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The ranks of bards oft tuned their solemn hymn;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Teutonic minstrels sang—gay—eager-hearted—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Still’d is their music now—their light is dim.</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Thy waves roll on—they roll as then—</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Their proud, untired, untroubled way—</div> + <div class="verse indent4">Eternal is thy course—while men,</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Unlike thy waves—decline—decay.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Merslakov"> + Merslakov. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160"></a><a id="Page_161"></a>[161]</span></p> + +</div> + + +<h3 id="ON_THE_DESTRUCTION_OF_BABYLON"> + ON THE DESTRUCTION OF BABYLON. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><span class="smcap">Isaiah xiv. 5-28.</span></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis over—she exists no more—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The terror of the bad and good</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is fallen—an awful solitude</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Spreads all her insolent trophies o’er.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her crumbling ruins are in dust:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Almighty, in his anger just,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Has scatter’d all her glories: He—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Lord—hath riven the heavy yoke—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He hath th’ accursed sceptre broke,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And given his people liberty.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thus did the Lord—the Lord of might!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His day of wrath for us is past;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The smiter he hath smitten at last,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And beam’d on us his smile of light.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Joy round his Israel’s tents has sped,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And grateful Lebanon bows his head,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And joins with ours his song of praise:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The heavenly cedars from on high</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bending—‘And thou art razed,’ they cry,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘And we have seen thy dying blaze.’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Destruction now, in robes of night,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hath veil’d thy fading rays in gloom;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Strange shadows round thee take their flight,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As on the storm the surges’ foam.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The empress of a hundred states—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The city of the thousand gates—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her glory in the dust is laid.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘What! thou who wert a god in pride,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Is this thy fate—so magnified,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘And so defenceless—so decay’d?’</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Where is thy pride, thy pageantry?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where is thy glory, humbled thing?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O bid thy choral voices sing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The triumphs of thy vanity!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No! all is still—for, like a shade,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The idle tones of flattery fade;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And music’s charms—a shifting play.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Murd’ress! how baseless was thy trust!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy house is night, thy bed the dust,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy covering—crawling worms of clay.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There was a light from heaven that shone,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dazzling all visions with its ray:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It shone in glory yesterday—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This morn it glanced—but now ’tis gone.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then, thine was an imperial will—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now, as the grave, thy voice is still.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou saidst, in insolent pride, ‘My throne</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘I’ll build upon the highest star—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Ride on the rolling clouds afar,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘And this proud Zion trample down.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘My car the glorious sky shall sweep,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘My towers the very heavens shall reach,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Obedience to the gods to teach:’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And now—thou art a ruin’d heap.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The pilgrim who shall seek thee there,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Will only find a wild-beast’s lair</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In a vast desert: he shall stand</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Trembling before the God of heaven,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And pray his sins may be forgiven,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And hide his pale cheek in his hand.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Was this the city that we fear’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">This she whose fetter-bearing hands</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Enslaved, insulted countless lands,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While misery in her train appear’d?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who shall resist death’s mighty claim?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who shall oppose the good man’s fame?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His sons shall watch his gen’rous fires,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And he shall live in memory’s store,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the wet eyelids of the poor,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Until he sleeps where sleep his sires.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou’rt stretch’d upon the battle-plain,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And shame and misery hem thee round;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Indignant voices curse the ground</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where thou once rear’dst thy trophies vain.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou, the destroyer of thy sons!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou, thy own people’s murderer once!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now liest beneath th’ unwholesome dew—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A peaceful grave is now denied thee.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The God of vengeance stands beside thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy children’s children to pursue.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Now rise, in all thy fury rise,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sprout of the fallen accursed race;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">New threats of slavery I trace—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Another plague towards us flies.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No! God hath said: ‘My strength shall wake,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in the storm and thunder speak,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And sweep the daring hordes away;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their towns the tygers’ haunts shall be,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their lands—the cradle of the sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And all their memory shall decay.’</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He spake—and as He spoke ’twas done:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The mandate of Thy heavenly will</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To utter, Lord! is to fulfil;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For art Thou not th’ Almighty One?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou hast subdued their tyranny,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Broken our bonds of slavery;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hast waved Thy fearful, fiery rod:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And who shall check Thy awful hand?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who shall Thy thunderbolt withstand?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who battle with a battling God?</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Voeikov"> + Voeikov. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168"></a><a id="Page_169"></a>[169]</span></p> + +</div> + + +<h3 class='section' id="TO_MY_FUTURE_BRIDE"> + TO MY FUTURE BRIDE. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O unknown being! thou whom long my soul has sought,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Vision of fancy bright, thou mild and lovely queen!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou, vainly, long, pursued by my impatient thought,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thou pure divinity unseen!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O tell me in what mist thou veil’st thy shadowy form!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">O tell me where thy steps have left their wonted trace!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For in hope’s sunshine hour, and in grief’s frowning storm,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">I feel thou art my resting place.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">When I my civic post, or social circle fill,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And with th’ infirm and poor my narrow portion share,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The widows’ sorrows soothe, the orphans’ murmuring still,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">I know, sweet spirit! thou art there.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">When fancy takes her flight beyond terrestrial things,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And towers above all space, and leaves behind all time;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And up to holiest stars of thought’s creation springs,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thou art her brightest dream sublime.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Once, in the moonlight’s shade, I saw thee, angel! stand,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">(Bent o’er a marble urn, whose waters gently swell’d)</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Clad in celestial white, bound with an azure band,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">A heavenly lyre thy fingers held.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And once, amidst a crowd, bright tears hung on thine eye,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thy head sunk on thy breast, devotion seem’d t’ engross</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy thoughts, and kneeling, thou pray’dst heaven in ecstasy,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Pressing the consecrated cross.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I saw thee, angel-like, through yonder temple glide,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Scattering thy light around like some ray-crested saint,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whispering sweet notes of peace, in the still eventide,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To many a pilgrim tired and faint.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I love to paint thee when thy bounty’s generous store</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Soothes the gray beggar’s wants, and comforts the distrest,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Anoints the sick with oil, provides with bread the poor,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And for the houseless finds a rest.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And O! how blest, to dream that thou may’st yet be mine,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">A very dove of peace, around my steps to hie,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Waking from thy sweet lyre a melody divine,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Gay as a summer butterfly.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And when upon the wave, midst twilight’s peaceful gleam,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">I launch my little bark, wilt thou sit smiling by,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And with thy lovely hand conduct it o’er the stream,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And rule my blessed destiny;</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And listen to my tale of fond and passionate love:</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Not, like a ghost, as now, but holding in thy hand</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A golden lamp; nor e’er seek thy own shrine above,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">But throw aside thy misty band.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">My guardian spirit, hail! unveil thee in thy bloom,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">For thou art lovelier far than feeble poet’s art;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Come in thy virtues now—in all thy glory come,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And fill the vacuum of my heart.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Muraviev"> + Muraviev. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174"></a><a id="Page_175"></a>[175]</span></p> + +</div> + + +<h3 id="TO_THE_GODDESS_OF_THE_NEVA"> + TO THE GODDESS OF THE NEVA. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Glide, majestic Neva! glide thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Deck’d with bright and peaceful smiles;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Palaces are raised beside thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Midst the shadows of the isles.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Stormy Russian seas thou bindest</div> + <div class="verse indent2">With the ocean—by the grave</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of our glorious Tzar thou windest,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Which thy grateful waters lave.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And the middle-ocean’s surges</div> + <div class="verse indent2">All thy smiling naiads court;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">While thy stream to Paros urges,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And to Lemnos’ classic port.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Hellas’ streams, their glory shaded,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">See the brightest memories fade;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Glassy mirrors—how degraded!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Dimmed by Kislar Aga’s shade.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">While thy happier face is bearing</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Ever-smiling images,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On thy busy banks appearing</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Crowds in gaiety and peace.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thames’ and Tagus’ gathering prizes,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Spread their riches o’er thy breast,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While thy well-known banner rises,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Rises proudly o’er the rest.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">In thy baths what beauties bathe them,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Goddesses of love and light;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There Erota loves to swathe them</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In the brightest robes of night.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Cool thy smiling banks at even,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Cool thy grottos and thy cells,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where, by gentle breezes driven,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Oft the dancing billow swells.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Then thou gatherest vapours round thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Veil’st thee in thy twilight dress;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love and Mirth have now unbound thee—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Yield thee to thy waywardness.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou dost bear the dying over,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Weary of his earthly dream⁠<a id="FNanchor_1_24" href="#Footnote_1_24" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>⁠;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And with awful mists dost cover</div> + <div class="verse indent2">All the bosom of the stream.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">With thy car thou troublest never</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The calm silence of the deep;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Syrens dance around thee ever,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Laughing o’er thy quiet sleep.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Peaceful goddess! oft the singer</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Sees thee, in his ecstasy,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the rock he loves to linger,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Sleepless—then he meets with thee.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="BOLESLAV"> + BOLESLAV, +</h3> + +<p class='center allsmcap'>KING OF POLAND.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Fame and glory’s feeble embers</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Fade o’er many a hero brave;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But the faithful Pole remembers</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The good prince—King Boleslav.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">True to love, though purple-girded—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">True to friendship, though a king;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In his inner soul there herded</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thoughts for ever festering.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He was happy—but two brothers</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Saw with dark and secret hate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their proud father-land another’s—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">They aspired to rule the state.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">They were loved—the king delighted</div> + <div class="verse indent2">All his love to pour on them;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">But a maiden’s faith was plighted,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And he saw the promised gem.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">As the lily, courted only</div> + <div class="verse indent2">By the breezes of the wood;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So Volhynia’s princess lonely,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Shrouded her in solitude.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Sbignei saw—and loved—communion</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Of affections swiftly grew:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They were sworn to holy union,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Sworn to Hymen’s pledges true.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">List!—the trumpets call the forces;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">See the dust clouds on the fields;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hark!—the impatient neigh of horses—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">‘To the fight!’—and Sbignei yields.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">To the town the monarch drew him,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Not in pride of victory;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Saw the princess—and he threw him</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Bending at the lady’s knee.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Tears adown her cheeks were flowing,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And in agony she cried:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Whither is my Sbignei going?</div> + <div class="verse indent2">O desert me not—thy bride!’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet two moons had told their story—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Sick with love is Boleslav;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He forgot his martial glory,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And his army true and brave.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Sbignei now all truce hath broken,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">His Bohemian troops he calls;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">See his rebel standard-token</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Marching on Volhynia’s walls.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis in vain—he is forsaken—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The Bohemian bands have fled;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He himself a prisoner taken—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">But his vizor veils his head.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">See!—the jealous king espies him</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Sleeping on Volhynia’s knee—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Draws <span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span> +his dagger and destroys him—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">’Twas his brother!—’twas not he!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Who shall tell the murderer’s madness—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Who shall paint his deathlike look?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There he stood, in grief and sadness,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Staggering—starting—thunderstruck.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Fain his steel he would have buried</div> + <div class="verse indent2">In his tortur’d throbbing breast;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But th’ attendant courtiers hurried,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">From his hand that steel to wrest.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Then he left his kingly palace,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">All he left—except his woe;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the spot that Calvary hallows,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Pilgrim-like he vow’d to go.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Every city where he wander’d</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Heard his crime, and heard his prayers:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O’er his wretched fate he ponder’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Asking pardon even with tears.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Be he pardon’d!—his repentance—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">May it bring his soul relief:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mournful is man’s earthly sentence,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Glory is no shield from grief.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span> </div> +<hr class="tb"> + + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">She bent her head, and the tears that fell</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Were veil’d as there were shame in tears:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her lips were closed, but a low ‘farewell’</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Had glided from those lips of hers.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The pale moon shone, and she raised her eye,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">It sparkled in the heavenly ray—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A smile awoke, and the tear was dry—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And the maiden sped her on her way.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3 id="FOOTNOTES_3"> + FOOTNOTES: +</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_1_24" href="#FNanchor_1_24" class="label">[1]</a> The burying-place at Petersburg is on the other side of the +Neva.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Kapnist"> + Kapnist. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186"></a><a id="Page_187"></a>[187]</span></p> + +</div> + + +<h3 id="ON_JULIAS_DEATH"> + ON JULIA’S DEATH. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The evening darkness shrouds</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The slumbering world in peace,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And from her throne of clouds</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Shines Luna through the trees.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My thoughts in silence blend,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">But gather’d all to thee:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou moon! the mourner’s friend,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">O come! and mourn with me.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Upon her grave I bow,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The green grave where she lies:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O hear my sorrows now,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And consecrate my sighs!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">This is her ashes’ bed—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Here her cold relics sleep—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where I my tears shall shed</div> + <div class="verse indent2">While this torn heart can weep.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O Julia! never rose</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Had half the charms of thee—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My comfort—my repose—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">O! thou wert all to me.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But thou art gone—and I</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Must bear life’s load of clay—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And pray—and long to die—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Though dying day by day.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But I must cease to sing,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">My lyre all mute appears—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Alas! its plaintive string</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Is wetted with my tears.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O! misery’s song must end—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">My thoughts all fly to thee:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou moon! the mourner’s friend,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">O come and mourn with me!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Petrov"> + Petrov. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190"></a><a id="Page_191"></a>[191]</span></p> + +</div> + + +<h3 id="ON_THE"> + <span class="allsmcap">ON THE</span><br> + +VICTORY OF THE RUSSIAN OVER THE +TURKISH FLEET.</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O triumph! O delight! O time so rich in fame</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Unclouded, bright and pure as the sun’s mid-day flame!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ruthenia’s strength goes forth—see from the sea emerge</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Typhons of the north—the lightning, in its might,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Flashes in dazzling light,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And subject is the surge.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">They wander o’er the waves—their eye impatiently</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Seeks where the Moslem’s flag flaunts proudly o’er the sea—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis there!—’tis there! exclaim the brave impatient crowd—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The <span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> +sails unfurl’d—each soul with rage and courage burns—</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Each to the combat turns—</div> + <div class="verse indent10">They meet—it thunders loud!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I see from Ætna’s rocks a floating army throng:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A hero, yet unsung, wafts the proud choir along—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The masts, a fir tree wood—the sails, like outspread wings.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">List! to the shoutings—see! the flash—they thunder near.</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Earthquakes and night are there—</div> + <div class="verse indent10">With storms the welkin rings.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">There <i>January</i> speeds—there <i>Svætoslav</i> moves on,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And waves and smoke alike are into tempest thrown;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And there the ship that bears the three-times hallow’d name⁠<a id="FNanchor_1_25" href="#Footnote_1_25" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>⁠,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And <i>Rotislav</i> and <i>Europe</i>, there triumphant ride;</div> + <div class="verse indent10">While the agitated tide</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Is startled with the flame.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Eustav, in fire conceal’d, scatters the death-like brand,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And earth and heaven are moved, and tremble sea and land;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And there, a mountain pile, sends round the deeds of death,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As if Vesuvius’ self in combat were engaged—</div> + <div class="verse indent10">While other mountains raged,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And pour’d their flaming breath.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The roar, the whiz, the hum, in one commingling sound,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The clouds of smoke that rise, and spread and roll around;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The waves attack the sky in wild and phrenzied dance;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The sails are white as snow; and now the sun looks on,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Now shrouds him on his throne—</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And the swift lightnings glance.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Hard proof of valour this—the spirit’s fiery test:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fierce combat—grown more fierce—bear high the burning breast!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">See, on the waves there ride two mountains, fiery-bound,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ætna and Hecla, loose on ocean’s heaving bed—</div> + <div class="verse indent10">The burning torches spread,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And ruin stalks around.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ocean, and shore, and air, rush backward at the sight,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Greek and Turk stand still, and groan in wild affright;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Calm as a rock the Russ is welcoming death with death;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But ah! destruction now blazes its fiery links,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And even victory sinks</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Its heavy weight beneath.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O frightful tragedy!—a furnace is the sea—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The triumph ours—the flames have reach’d the enemy:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He burns—he dies in smoke—beneath the struggle rude</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The northern heroes sink, with weariness opprest,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And ask a moment’s rest,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">As if they were subdued.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And whence that threatening cloud that hangs upon their head?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That threatens now to burst—What! is their leader dead?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And is he borne away, who all our bosoms warm’d?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He fell—there lies his sword—there lie his shield and helm—</div> + <div class="verse indent10">What sorrows o’erwhelm</div> + <div class="verse indent10">The conqueror disarm’d!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O no! he wakes again from night—he waves his hand,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Beckoning to the brave ranks that, mourning, round him stand:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘My brother!’ cried he—‘Heaven! and is my brother gone?—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Their sails unfurl—My friends! O see! O see! they fly—</div> + <div class="verse indent10">On—“Death or vengeance!” cry,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">On, on to Stambul’s throne!’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He fled—O hero! peace! there is no cause for grief,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He lives—thy brother lives, and Spiridov, his chief:</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">No dolphin saved them there—it was the Almighty God,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The God who sees thy deeds, thy valour who approves,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And tries the men he loves</div> + <div class="verse indent10">With his afflictive rod.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The dreadful dream is past—past like a mist away,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And dawns, serene and bright, a cloudless victory day:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The trump of shadeless joy—the trump of triumph speaks;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The hero and his friend are met, and fled their fears;</div> + <div class="verse indent10">They kiss each others cheeks,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">They water them with tears.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">They cried ‘And is our fame, and is our glory stain’d?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">God is our shield—revenge and victory shall be gain’d—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We live—and Mahmoud’s might a hundred times shall fall;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We live—the astonish’d world our hero-deeds shall see.</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And every victory</div> + <div class="verse indent10">A burning fleet recall.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Whence this unusual glare o’er midnight’s ocean spread:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At what unwonted hour has Phœbus left his bed?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No! they are Russian crowds who struggle with the foe,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis their accordant torch that flashes through the night.</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Sequana! see the might</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Of Stambul sink below.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The harbour teems with life, an amphitheatre</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of sulphurous pitch and smoke, and awful noises there;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The fiends of hell are loose, the sea has oped its caves,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fate rides upon the deep, and laughs amidst the fray,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Which feeds with human prey</div> + <div class="verse indent10">The monsters of the waves.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">See, like a furnace boils and steams the burning flood,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis fill’d with mortal flesh, ’tis red with mortal blood,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Devour’d by raging flames, drunk by the thirsty wave,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The clouds seem palpable—a thick and solid mass—</div> + <div class="verse indent10">They sink like stone or brass</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Into their water-grave.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou ruler of the tomb!—Dread hour of suffering,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When all the elements——Drop, Muse! thy feeble wing!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hell, with its fiends—and all the fiends that man e’er drew</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There mingled—Silence veil that awful memory o’er!</div> + <div class="verse indent10">I see the hero pour</div> + <div class="verse indent10">The tears of pity too!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O Peter! great in song, as great in glory once,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Look from thy throne sublime upon thy Russia’s sons:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">See, how thy fleets have won the palm of victory,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And hear the triumph sound, even to the gate of heaven—</div> + <div class="verse indent10">The Turkish strength is riven</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Even in the Turkish sea.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thee, Copenhagen saw—the Neptune of the Belt;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now Cherma’s humbled sons before thy flag have knelt.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The helpless Greeks have fled—thy banner sees their shore,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Trembling they look around, while thy dread thunder swells,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And shakes the Dardanelles,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And Smyrna hears its roar.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Gallicians! fear ye not the now advancing flame,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Recording, as it flies, your own, your country’s shame?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the dark days of old, your valiant fathers trod</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the brave steps of Rome, towards lands of southern glow;</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Ye fight with Russians now,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Beneath the Moslems’ rod.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Where innocence is found—there, there protection wakes;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where Catherine’s voice is heard—there truth, there justice speaks:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A ruler’s virtues are the strength and pride of states,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And surely ours shall bloom where Catherine’s virtues stand.</div> + <div class="verse indent10">O enviable land!</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Glory is at our gates.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Soar, eagle! soar again, spring upward to the height,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For yet the Turkish flag is flaunting in the light:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In Cherma’s port it still erects its insolent head,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And thou must pour again thy foes’ blood o’er the sea,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And crush their treachery,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And wide destruction spread!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But fame now summons thee from death to life again,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The people’s comfort now, their glory to maintain;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The hero’s palm is won.—Now turn thee and enhance</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The hero’s triumphs with the patriot’s milder fame.</div> + <div class="verse indent10">O Romans! without shame</div> + <div class="verse indent10">On Duil’s spoils we glance.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">We’ll consecrate to thee a towering marble dome!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From yonder southern sea, O bring thy trophies home,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bring Scio’s trophies home,—those trophies still shall be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy glory, Orlov, thine!—the records of thy deeds,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">When future valour reads</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Astrea’s victory!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O could my waken’d muse a worthy offering bring,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O could my grateful lyre a song of glory sing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O could I steal from thee the high and towering thought,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With thy proud name the world, the listening world I’d fill;</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And Camoens’ harp be still,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And Gama be forgot!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thine was a nobler far than Jason’s enterprise,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose name shines like a star in history’s glorious skies:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He bore in triumph home the rich, the golden fleece;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But with thy valour thou, and with thy conquering band,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Hast saved thy father land,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And given to Hellas peace.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But O! my tongue is weak to celebrate thy glory,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy valiant deeds shall live in everlasting story,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For public gratitude thy name will e’er enshrine—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who loves his country, who his empress loves, will throw</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span> + <div class="verse indent10">His garland on thy brow,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And watch that fame of thine.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But when thou humbledst low the Moslem’s pride and scorn,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And badest her crescent sink, her vain and feeble horn,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And pass’dst the Belt again, with songs and hymns of joy,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who that perceived thy flag, in all its mightiness,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">What Russian could repress</div> + <div class="verse indent10">The tears that dimm’d his eye?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I see the people rush to welcome thee again,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy ships, with trophies deep, upon the swelling main;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I see the maidens haste, the aged, and the young,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The children wave their hands, and to their fathers turn,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And thousand questions burn</div> + <div class="verse indent10">On their inquiring tongue.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Is this the eagle proud of whom we have been told,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who led against the Turks the Russian heroes bold,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">And with their warriors” blood the azure ocean dyed?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is this our Orlov—this, with eagle’s heart and name⁠<a id="FNanchor_2_26" href="#Footnote_2_26" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>⁠,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">His foe’s reproach and shame,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And Russia’s strength and pride?’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O yes! O yes! ’tis he—The eagle there appears,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And ocean bears him on, as proud of him she bears:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And see his brother too, who led to victory, there—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And Spirodov, whose praise all ages shall renew,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And Greig and Ilijn too—</div> + <div class="verse indent10">The heroes—without fear.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But—wherefore do I rest—what fancies lead me on?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The glorious eagle now to Asia’s coasts is flown,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O’er streams, and hills, and vales, he takes his course sublime,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My eye in vain pursues his all-subduing flight.</div> + <div class="verse indent10">O vision of delight!</div> + <div class="verse indent10">O victory-girded time!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And heaven, and earth, and sea have seen our victories won,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And echo with the deeds that Catherine has done;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The Baltic coasts in vain oppose the march of Paul,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Not the vast north alone, but all th’ Ægean sea</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Shall own his sovereignty,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And the whole earthly ball!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3 id="FOOTNOTES_4"> + FOOTNOTES: +</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_1_25" href="#FNanchor_1_25" class="label">[1]</a> The Trinity.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_2_26" href="#FNanchor_2_26" class="label">[2]</a> <i>Orel</i> is the Russian for eagle. <i>Orlov</i>, inflection of the noun.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Shatrov"> + Shatrov. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_206"></a><a id="Page_207"></a>[207]</span></p> + +</div> + + +<h3 id="TO_THE_ARMY_OF_THE_DON"> + TO THE ARMY OF THE DON. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Moskva is stunn’d with the thunder-storm’s rattle:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">See! for the Don has sprung over its banks,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Arm’d ’gainst the foe in fury and battle,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Crowd to the ranks!</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Trump of the Tzar! which to triumph calls loudly—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Spirits of Moskva!—ye warriors away!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thousand times thousand arrange themselves proudly,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Ripe for the fray.</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm’d for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Strive against God and our Russia shall no men,’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ataman cried, while he brandish’d his spear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Scatter’d like ashes, they perish—our foemen,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Where are they—where?’</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Fame-circled monarch! like waterfalls gushing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Down from the rocks, see thy children advance</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the false foe, in their energy rushing,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Sabre and lance!</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm’d for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Russians shall make them a pathway victorious;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Russians shall conquer from Neva to Rhine;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Armies shall fly at their enterprise glorious;</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Triumph is thine.</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm’d for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Russia! O fear not! no foe shall assemble</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Near thee—they shrink from the cross-flag ador’d.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lo! at thy slings and thy sabres they tremble—</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Ready thy sword!</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm’d for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Yes! let thy enemy rage—let him hector—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Strong though he be, he shall fly from the field.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is not the mother of God our protector—</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Michael our shield?</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm’d for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ready!—to horse!—for the cannon shouts call our</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Heroes to struggle for hopes so sublime!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">God himself smiles on the high deeds of valour!—</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Children, ’tis time!</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Rush on the Franks—as pyramids steady—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Say, shall they enter the heart of our land?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No! for our heroes are gathering all ready;</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Firmly they stand,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm’d for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">See! for our legions are wildly advancing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bonaparte flies from the Sons of the Don;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dull is the fame that so brightly was glancing—</div> + <div class="verse indent14">France is o’erthrown.</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Arrows like hailstones are clattering around us,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sabres and spear-heads shine bright in the breeze,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the swift bullets seem whispering—they sound as</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Swarming of bees.</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm’d for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Three hundred thousand twice reckon’d oppose them</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Vainly to Russia—’tis glory to see</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How a small band of Cossāks overthrows them—</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Look how they flee.</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Cannons and muskets abandon’d—and duty</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Forgotten—for death and for terror are nigh—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Willingly yield they their knapsacks and booty,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Only to fly.</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">See how the raven is crouching, affrighted,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where the proud eagle has built its own home;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Russia hath left them alarm’d and benighted—</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Russia their tomb.</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm’d for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">So is the generous struggle rewarded;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So do the insolent enemy bleed;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So is the palace-crown’d, liberty-guarded</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Capital freed.</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thanks to the Highest One! honour and glory—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He has conducted us—saved is the throne!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Praise to the Tzar—and may garlands grow o’er ye,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Sons of the Don!</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Arm’d for the right,</div> + <div class="verse indent14">Strong in the fight!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Vaesemsky"> + Væsemsky. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_214"></a><a id="Page_215"></a>[215]</span></p> + +</div> + + +<h3>TO MY THREE ABSENT FRIENDS,<br> +ZH. B. AND S.</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">My brothers! whither scatter’d now?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What fate—what cruel fate could sever</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hands—souls—fast-bound—divided never?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But ye are fled—and fled for ever,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And I am left alone with woe!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The sigh I heave in silence here,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The careless zephyr bears away;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis lost in twilight’s darkening ray—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis veil’d in night—it fades in day—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">It ne’er will reach your listening ear.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Perchance even now, while round me roll</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dark storms and misty clouds—even now,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Pain’s icy sweat upon his brow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One calls upon his friend—and oh!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Death’s wintry curtain wraps his soul.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Then sleep in peace, thou spirit blest!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My spirit seems to cling to thee;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From sorrow—to felicity</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wafted—thy bark has pass’d the sea</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of storms—in joy’s calm port to rest.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">How long shall absence’ misery last?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When, when shall dawn the hour of meeting?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall ne’er again the blessed greeting</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of social bliss return?—How fleeting</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Its rapture—’Tis for ever past!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Cold—cold—I feel my heart;—delight</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Can kindle ne’er its fire again—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My tears flow forth—they flow in vain;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My smiles—no light those smiles retain;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For what awaked it sinks in night.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Time was—how blessed to recall</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That time—when our hands garlanded</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The fairest wreaths of roses red,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in youth’s spring the chorus led</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To heaven—the source, the end of all.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Time was—but like a dream it fled!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The hymn—’tis now a funeral dirge;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The garland—’tis affliction’s scourge;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The dance—its memories now emerge</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like ghosts, that wander midst the dead.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">And now the plaint ascends!—Appear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Appear, delightful hours, anew!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Spirit of youth, so fond, so true,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Awake!—Suns, once so bright, so few,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shine—let illusion’s mockery cheer!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But see! the darkness creeps away—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The clouds disperse—the storm is gone—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thy smile returns not—blessed one!—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The mountains see the morning dawn—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To me, alas! there dawns no day.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="To_N_N"> + To N. N. +</h3> + +<p class='center allsmcap'>ON THE DEATH OF HIS SON.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">As in the mid-day sun the flower</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Looks brightest, and then bends its head,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So fell thy son—how short his hour</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Of bliss—how rapidly he fled!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet o’er his cradle—o’er his tomb,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">An everlasting daylight shone;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A promise of bright days to come—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Why came he—only to be gone?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">As mounts the incense to the skies,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">A towering cloud—with cold, pale cheek</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou saw’st him to his Maker rise,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And his own blessed country seek.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">He gave to thee his last, last sigh,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Ere yet he heaved his latest breath;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">He turn’d to thee his dying eye,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Ere it was mantled o’er by death.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou hadst indulged the sweetest dream</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Which hope e’er built, or time decay’d;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And in the future’s distant beam</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thy son a friend, a brother made.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The hours of youth’s delightful reign,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And rapture’s early, spring-tide joy;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou in his smiles hadst shared again,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And in thy boy wert twice a boy.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">That vision is departed—Sleep</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Soon leaves the weary, mortal eye:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Go—with his funeral cypress—weep;</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thy spirit’s peace is slumbering nigh.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">With thine my mingling tears I’ll bring—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Their bitterness he cannot know;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The morning-rose I’ll o’er him fling—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">He was a rose of morning too.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="FRAGMENT_1"> + FRAGMENT. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The waves of Seine have seen the banner,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The eagle-banner, floating high;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There do the winds of glory fan her,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">While flap her pinions to the sky.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Hers was a night of gloom—but morning</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Has dawn’d on her triumphant flight;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And now, all fear and weakness scorning,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">She soars to liberty and light.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Milonov"> + Milonov. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_222"></a><a id="Page_223"></a>[223]</span></p> + +</div> + + +<h3 id="THE_FALL_OF_THE_LEAF"> + THE FALL OF THE LEAF. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Th’ autumnal winds had stripp’d the field</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Of all its foliage, all its green;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The winter’s harbinger had still’d</div> + <div class="verse indent2">That soul of song which cheer’d the scene:</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">With visage pale, and tottering gait,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">As one who hears his parting knell,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I saw a youth disconsolate;—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">He came to breathe his last farewell.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Thou grove! how dark thy gloom to me,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thy glories riven by autumn’s breath;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">In every falling leaf I see</div> + <div class="verse indent2">A threatening messenger of death.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O Æsculapius! in my ear</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thy melancholy warnings chime:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fond youth! bethink thee, thou art here</div> + <div class="verse indent2">A wanderer—for the last—last time.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Thy spring will winter’s gloom o’ershade,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Ere yet the fields are white with snow;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ere yet the latest flow’rets fade,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Thou in thy grave wilt sleep below.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘I hear a hollow murmuring,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The cold wind rolling o’er the plain—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Alas! the brightest days of spring</div> + <div class="verse indent2">How swift, how sorrowful, how vain!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O wave, ye dancing boughs, O wave!</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Perchance to-morrow’s dawn may see</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My mother weeping on my grave—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Then consecrate my memory.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘I see, with loose, dishevell’d hair,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Covering her snowy bosom, come</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The angel of my childhood there,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">To dew with tears my early tomb.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Then in the autumn’s silent eve,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">With fluttering wing, and gentlest tread,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My spirit its calm bed shall leave,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And hover o’er the mourner’s head.’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Then he was silent—faint and slow</div> + <div class="verse indent2">His steps retraced;—he came no more:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The last leaf trembled on the bough—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And his last pang of grief was o’er.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Beneath the aged oaks he sleeps;—</div> + <div class="verse indent2">The angel of his childhood there</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No watch around his tombstone keeps.</div> + <div class="verse indent2">But when the evening stars appear,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">The woodman, to his cottage bound,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Close to that grave is wont to tread;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But his rude footsteps, echo’d round,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Break not the silence of the dead.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Merslaekov"> + Merslækov. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_228"></a><a id="Page_229"></a>[229]</span></p> + +</div> + + +<h3 id="DUETT"> + DUETT. +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>FIRST VOICE.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Thus the weeping shepherd spoke,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While his heart with anguish broke,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the maiden of his bosom:</div> + <div class="verse indent6">It can never be!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">I shall see thee smile no more;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou art rich, and I am poor:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Leave me—be serene and happy—</div> + <div class="verse indent6">To my misery!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>SECOND VOICE.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Then the youthful shepherdess</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Heaved a sigh for his distress,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gently utter’d, calm and sorrowing,</div> + <div class="verse indent6">It can never be?</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou art mine—for ever mine;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">What though poverty be thine?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They who have love’s fount of riches</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Know no poverty!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>FIRST VOICE.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">I am of unhonour’d line,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the world alone—is mine:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How the proud, and how the noble</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Will thy choice reprove!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>SECOND VOICE.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Slander is their joy—they know</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nothing of affection’s glow:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ancestry and pride I seek not—</div> + <div class="verse indent6">But I seek thy love!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>FIRST VOICE.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Smiles and joy thy steps await:—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Misery is at my gate:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tears are bitter—but most bitter</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Tears of penitence!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>SECOND VOICE.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Unpartaken pleasure cloys,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But divided woes are joys;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where our common tears are mingled</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Grief will fly from thence!</div> + </div> + + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>FIRST VOICE.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Corn-flowers and forget-me-not,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And narcissus, ne’er I sought;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now I’ll seek the sweetest flow’rets</div> + <div class="verse indent6">For my smiling fair!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>SECOND VOICE.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Strange a shepherd’s life to me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yet a shepherdess I’ll be;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Though my father’s rich, I’ll braid thee</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Garlands for thy hair!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <p class='center allsmcap'>BOTH.</p> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou hast made life’s burthen lighter,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Every star and flower is brighter;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Now with thine my heart is blended,</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Every thought and breath!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Tears and sorrow, if they come,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shall not wear the garb of gloom;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Life with thee is crown’d with beauty—</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Beautiful is death!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="Khovansky"> + Khovansky. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_234"></a><a id="Page_235"></a>[235]</span></p> + +</div> + + +<h3 id="Ya_vechor_v_lugakh_gulyala"> + <i>Ya vechor v lugakh gulyala.</i> +</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Through the silent evening hours,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Musing on my cares, I roved;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And amused me gathering flowers,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Forming wreaths for him I loved.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Pensively I wander’d round,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Till the sun had left the plain;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Many and many a flower I found,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But <i>one</i> flower I sought in vain.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Through the solitary even</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Every where that flower I sought;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis a flower as blue as heaven—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Twas in vain—I found it not.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Mournful I was homeward going,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When—a gentle rivulet nigh,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I espied that flow’ret growing—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which I pluck’d in ecstasy.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Sweet Forget-me-not! elated,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tears express’d my bursting thought,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And I sigh’d, and I repeated,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O my friend! Forget-me-not!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Gold and glare to me are dim—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He is dearer far than they;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They can add no charm to him—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Maid! I love thee!’ charmer, say!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span></p> + + + <h2 class="nobreak blackletter" id="National_Songs"> + National Songs. + </h2> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_238"></a><a id="Page_239"></a>[239]</span></p> +</div> + + +<h3 id="I"> + I. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><i>Ne golubūshka v’chīstom pōlæ vōrkuet.</i></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O’er the meadow not a turtle speeds or flutters,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the twilight no dew-drops scatters over:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In her chamber a young maiden her griefs utters,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">As she thinks, drown’d in tears, of her lover:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her bright eyes with bursting sorrow are loaded,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her heart with disappointment has been goaded.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘My beloved! my beloved! my heart’s master!’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She cried, in her agony overflowing:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her sighs thicken’d—her tears they hurried faster—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O some viper my bosom must be gnawing,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Some poison must my life-blood be congealing!—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No! thy absence creates this bitter feeling.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘’Tis no traitor, ’tis no false one who has left me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No vile-minded, no polluted, no cold-hearted—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How sad was the moment which bereft me—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How bitter my sorrow when we parted!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When I lost thee all was darkness about me;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Life and death are indifferent without thee.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘’Twas not violence fetter’d our affection;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Twas thy prudence, ’twas thy virtue, that enchain’d me—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In thy bosom love and friendship found protection,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the heart that was worthy of me gain’d me:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We are pledged not—we are sworn not—for brighter</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is the chain of sweet sympathy—and tighter.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Then return thee, my beloved! and forget not</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou controllest all my joy and all my sorrow;—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Think of me, my heart’s confidence! and let not</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My thoughts any gloomier shadows borrow:</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis for thee—’tis for thee <i>alone</i>—that I grieve me—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Come again, thou sweet spirit! to relieve me.’⁠<a id="FNanchor_1_27" href="#Footnote_1_27" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>⁠</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="II"> + II. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><i>Osen blædnaya v polyakh.</i></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Autumn’s robes are on the mead,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Colder blow the breezes cold;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sadness fills the shepherd’s fold,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the cheerful birds are fled.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All are fled—ye swains, draw near,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All your store of gladness bring:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Shepherds—shepherdesses—hear!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gather round me while I sing.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Come—the shadowy thatch is o’er ye—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Listen to my jealous story.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Daphne, wandering, chanced to look</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Towards the wood, and saw, alone,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sporting, his beloved one,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Leaning on her pastoral crook;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her light morning garments on—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On her hand a wreath she held,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Playing with the early sun,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the forest and the field:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O, it was a moment meet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For a lover’s heart to beat!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Forward she—he sought the wood</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Swiftly—not less swift she flew—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Harder beat his bosom true—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He was left in solitude.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like a rein-deer she is gone,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Buried in the thickest shade.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Heaven—and faithless, treacherous one!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Do I dream?—No!—cruel maid!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Some heart’s-robber waits thee there—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Wretched man!—deceitful fair!’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">But he reach’d the wood at last,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And he hears the rustling boughs,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hides him midst the leaves, and vows</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That his eagle eye shall blast</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All her joy—her shame unveil:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then he put the boughs aside,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">But, as tutor’d to conceal,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They rebound, dissatisfied;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And he stands, a senseless thing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When he heard his maiden sing:—</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">(Gods of heaven! and fiends of hell!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ye, who e’er a heart conferr’d—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ye, who e’er of passion heard—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thunder were less terrible.)</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Come,’ she said, ‘O come, my dear!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Come, thou brightest, sweetest, best!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sport thee with this garland here,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sleep upon my welcoming breast;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dwell, my joy, my pride, with me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And my heart shall dwell with thee.’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Vile deceiver!—fallen to this!’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the forest echo’d round</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Laughter, and the gentler sound</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Of the love-conferring kiss.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Through the circling boughs he tears,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And, with fury-flashing eyes,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Met his maiden pale with fears,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And—upon her hand espies</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A sweet bird that she caress’d,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And was fondling in her breast.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Canst thou, canst thou then forgive</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He who dared to doubt thy truth?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘No! forgiveness, erring youth!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ne’er with doubting love can live.’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So she spoke—his heart was broken,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Veil’d in grief and sunk in shame;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tears, repentance’ bitter token,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fell, but could not quench the flame:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So—for love the victory wins—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">She forgave him all his sins.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="III"> + III. +</h3> + +<p class='center'>TO MARY.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Noisy nightingale! be still,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hear’st thou not the sweeter thrill</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Of my Mary,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Of my fairy,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From the cottage? through the trees,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Born on breath of western breeze.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">As the skylark from her height,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Midst the dews of opening light,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Sweetly singeth;</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Joy upspringeth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From the heart that song to hear—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">So I love thy voice, my dear!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Turn I towards the window-seat—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Give me one soft glance, my sweet!</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Kind is Mary,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Kind my fairy,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Joyous as a summer’s day</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In the mildest smile of May.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Then her heart its folds unveils,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And she sings its secret tales:</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Gently flowing,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Mildly glowing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O how sweetly falls the strain!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O how fascinating then!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">When upon her harpsichord</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Music leads the mournful word,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And the spirit</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Sighs to hear it,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Led by her in willing chain—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who was ever like her then?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Who?—two Marys cannot be.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mary! life’s sweet witchery!</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Mary! bless me,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">And caress me:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Kings might envy, for thou art,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Mary! thou, my heart of heart.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Peace!—she sighs—thou window fly</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Open—let me drink her sigh:</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Glowing, blushing,</div> + <div class="verse indent10">Thither rushing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Could I steal one rapturous kiss—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sing, sweet bird! thy song of bliss.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="IV"> + IV. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><i>Akh! kabĭ na tzvætĭ ne Morosĭ.</i></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">If the frost nipp’d the flowrets no more,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If in winter the flowrets would bloom,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">If the woes of my spirit were o’er,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My spirit should cast off its gloom:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I would sit with my sorrow no longer,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O’erwatching the dew-covered field.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I said to my father already,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Already I said to my taper⁠<a id="FNanchor_2_28" href="#Footnote_2_28" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>⁠,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Nay! marry me not, O my father!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O marry me not to a proud one!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O seek not for high piles of riches,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O seek not for palaces fair,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis man, not his palace we dwell in,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis comfort, not riches, we need!’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I hurried across the young grass,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">I threw off my sable fur cloak,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lest its rustling perchance might betray me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lest its buttons of metal might tinkle—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Afraid my stepfather would hear me,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And say, ‘she is there,’ to his son—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To his son—who is doom’d for my husband.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="V"> + V. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><i>Akh! kak toshno mnæ toshnen’ko.</i></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O how gloomy has been to me</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The year that speeds away,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But gloomier than all the rest to me</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gloomier than all—to-day!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I must forget my meat and drink,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And of my lover think.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I must no longer idly sleep,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But counsel seek, and keep.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Counsel—counsel must I seek,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And seek it from my lover.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let us, let us now, my hope,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let us live in love;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Live in love, while time runs over,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Were it but a year,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And that year will then appear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like a little day.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Fain, my love, I’d live with thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But the wicked ones,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Even our next door neighbours watch</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With a never-weary eye;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Every step they watch,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And to father and to mother</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tell most lying tales;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Such as that the youthful maiden</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Woke at early hour,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Woke at early hour to watch her,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Watch her youthful friend;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And she stood upon the threshold</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And her kerchief waved.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Truly, she did wave her kerchief</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To invite her friend.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Turn again, my hopes! come hither,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hither to my soul!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O thou com’st not!—tell me wherefore,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wherefore art thou hidden?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yes! they call thee, thou my treasure!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou wilt marry thee.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When thou hastenest to the altar,</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Say farewell! to me.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Take away my woe and sorrow</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From the luckless maid,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bind her woe, and bind her sorrow</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To thy horse’s mane.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Scatter all the maiden’s sorrow</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O’er the flowerless field;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Spring there from the maiden’s sorrow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Fairest grass and turf!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Grass and turf from maiden’s sorrow,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the sweetest flowers;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All the flowers are brightly red—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One more bright than all—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One—yes, one is far more bright—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O the bright red flower!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Many and many a friend I love,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One far more than all;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One is dearer than the rest—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Loved one of my soul!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="VI"> + VI. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><i>Tĭ vosnoi, vosnoi zhavoronochik.</i></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Sing, O sing again, lovely lark of mine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sitting there alone amidst the green of May!</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">In the prison-tower the lad sits mournfully,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To his father writes—to his mother writes:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thus he wrote—and these—these were the very words:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O good father mine—thou beloved sir!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O good mother mine—thou beloved dame!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ransom me, I pray—ransom the good lad,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He is your beloved—is your only son!’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Father—mother—both—both refused to hear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Cursed their hapless race—cursed their hapless seed:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Never did a thief our honest name disgrace—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Highwayman or thief never stain’d the name.’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Sing, O sing again, lovely lark of mine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sitting there alone in the green of May!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">From the prison-tower thus the prisoner wrote,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thus the prisoner wrote to his beloved maid:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O thou soul of mine! O thou lovely maid!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Truest love of mine—sweetest love of mine!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Save—O save, I pray—save the prison’d lad!’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Swiftly, then, exclaim’d that beloved maid:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Come, attendant! come—come my faithful nurse—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Servant faithful—you that long have faithful been,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bring the golden key—bring the key with speed—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ope the treasure chests—open them in haste;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Golden treasures bring—bring them straight to me:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ransom him, I say—ransom the good lad,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He is my beloved—of my heart beloved.’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Sing, O sing again, lovely lark of mine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sitting there alone amidst the green of May!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="VII"> + VII. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><i>Na boskhodĭ krasna solnĭshka.</i></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">When the lovely sun is mounting high,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the bright moon leaves the morning sky;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When no falcon floats upon the air,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">By the river’s side a youth is seen—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ah! he totters—slowly moving there,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">His faint eye glides o’er the gardens green,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While he holds sad converse with woe and care:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Then the little birds awake and greet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Bridegroom and bride, in raptures sweet</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They flap their wings in ecstasy:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My turtle!—all—yes! all but thou,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Who slumberest in thy chamber now,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nor sighest—nor sendst a thought to me—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">No! I am banish’d from her dreams—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My memory now no longer gleams</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In her heart—my soul’s bright hours are o’er—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Nadesha will be mine no more!</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent2">From her chamber then the maiden sped,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And grief was on her cheeks distrest;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And her eyes with sorrow’s tears were red,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Her arms hung down—she is not dead,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For no arrow has transfix’d her breast,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And no venomous snake has poison’d her:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He would speak—but he was forced to hear:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Now fare thee well, thou loving one!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">My soul!—my father’s best loved son!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Last eve I was affianced—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Oh! and the guests to-morrow come:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They will lead me to God’s holy shrine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Call me another’s—wretched doom!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Another’s——but for ever thine.’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="VIII"> + VIII. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><i>Akh! daleche v chistom polæ.</i></p> + + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Alas! on that plane, distant meadow towers</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A little tree, whose branches raise them high,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And neath those branches grows the emerald grass,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And o’er the grass full many a floweret blooms,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There many a floweret blooms as blue as heav’n.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And on those flowerets was a carpet spread,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And on that carpet sat two brothers lone,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Two lonely brothers, link’d in strongest love:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The elder brother waked the cymbal’s voice,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To which the younger’s sweetest hymns were join’d:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Two sons, our mother gave us to the world,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our father like two falcons rear’d his boys;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He rear’d and fed us—yet he taught us nought—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But rear’d us on this wide and foreign land:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A wide and foreign land—the town unknown;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Wide foreign land—dry even without the wind—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Dry without wind, and chilly without frost.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Our mother deem’d we never should get free,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But we have freed us in this happy hour,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And now, O mother! thou wilt find us not.’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="IX"> + IX. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><i>Tĭ dusha moya.</i></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O thou soul of mine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Gentle maid divine!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou who didst possess</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All this heart of mine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sit not, my love’s light!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Watching through the night:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Waxen taper now</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Burn no more, I pray,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wait me now no more</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Till the break of day!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All our hope is over,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And betrothed thy lover;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And I came to ask</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For thy last farewell,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And my gratitude</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For past love to tell.’</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Hardly had he spoken,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Hardly had he said—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sobbing—spirit-broken—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wept the lovely maid:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Melting into tears,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Trembling in her fears,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Firmly yet she cried:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Give me, treacherous thing,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Give my golden ring:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Take the knife of steel</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Which thou once hadst given,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Let its blade be driven</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To my heart—and feel</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How it burnt for thee,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While thou murderedst me!’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Weep not, gentle maid!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Weep no more, I pray;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I shall often come,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Come from day to day:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I shall love thee more—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Better—than before.’</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">But she wept again,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lovely maid!—she wept,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And her tearful eye</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the traitor kept.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Never is the sun</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Brighter than in June:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Love can never see</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Twice its burning noon.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="X"> + X. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><i>Perestan’ stonatæ Kukushechka.</i></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Listen yet a while, thou cuckoo dear!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Call not, call not thou so sadly there!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For without thy notes my heart is torn,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sicken’d, and dejected, and forlorn!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For the sun his lovely face has shrouded,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Frowning sits he in his palace clouded,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And the lovely maid is full of grief,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And that grief will never find an end—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Never find an end—for how can she,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How can she forget her bosom’s friend?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Not an hour—not even a moment—he,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He is present at the dawn of day,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">At the nightfall—eve—and morning’s ray.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O he left the lovely maiden—he</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Left the maiden for a little week—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">For a week—but six months sped away—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Six long months—’twas an eternity.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="XI"> + XI. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><i>Chernovrovoi, chernoglazoi.</i></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Hazel-eyebrow’d, hazel-eyed,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou audacious boy,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Why hast thou bewitch’d my heart,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And to grief betray’d?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Can the summer sun be cold,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Can the light be shade,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Can the heart exist on earth</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Uninspired by love?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Does the sunshine cease to smile</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When the floweret fades?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Is the heart untouch’d by love</div> + <div class="verse indent0">When the heart is sad?</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">’Tis no lawless love that dwells</div> + <div class="verse indent0">In my inner heart:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I will fly and seek my mate,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Like the bird in spring.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">I will show him all his gifts,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Every kerchief sent;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">He shall see those kerchiefs steam</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With my burning tears!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On thy bosom dry them, dry</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Those hot, burning tears;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Or commingle them with thine,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">They will sweeter flow.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Hear! on the damp hedge a noise,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Snow-clouds on the field—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Stormy winds are gathering round,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Broken is the way.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tarry in thy little cage,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O thou gentle bird,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou canst open not with tears</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Yonder prison, dear!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Tell to thy affianced now</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Some old tale of joy.</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Never alone should a lovely maid</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Wander across the field;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Never the maiden’s wandering eye</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Should the handsome swains pursue;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Never the maid should dare to love,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To love the handsome swain:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But the maid should watch her tender heart</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With ever-present care.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="XII"> + XII. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><i>Pover’kh dubchika.</i></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">On an oak there sate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A turtle with his mate—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">There in amorous meeting</div> + <div class="verse indent0">One another greeting,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Each with flapping wing</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All its joy repeating.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Swift a vulture sprung,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Eagle-eyed and young,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And he bore away</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That poor turtle gray—</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That poor turtle gray,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With his ruby feet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">On the oak-tree wood</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Spilt the turtle’s blood:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All the plumage soft</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O’er the meadow driven;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">All his down aloft</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Borne by winds of heaven.</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span> </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">O how desolate</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sat the mourning mate;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">How she groan’d and sigh’d</div> + <div class="verse indent0">While her turtle died.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Weep not—why complain,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Little turtle, love?’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Said the vulture then</div> + <div class="verse indent0">To the widow’d dove,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘O’er the azure sea</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I will bring to thee</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Flocks of turtles, where</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thou shalt choose thy dear,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Choose thy lover sweet,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Choose the brightest, best,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">With a fair gray breast,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">And with ruby feet.’</div> + </div> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Fly not, murderous bird!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O’er the azure sea!’</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Thus the dove was heard</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Answering mournfully:</div> + <div class="verse indent0">‘Bring no flocks to me</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O’er the azure sea;</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">Can their presence be</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Comfort to my breast?</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Will they bring to me</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The father of my nest?’</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span></p> + + +<h3 class='section' id="XIII"> + XIII. +</h3> + +<p class='center'><i>Tĭ prokodish’ dorogaja.</i></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">Ah! thou hurriest by the convent,</div> + <div class="verse indent6">My beloved one!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Ah! the convent where the wretched monk</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Lives despairing.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">’Twas by force he was conducted here,</div> + <div class="verse indent6">And devoted!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">O remove this hood, my dearest one,</div> + <div class="verse indent6">O remove it!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Take away this frock, my fairest one,</div> + <div class="verse indent6">I beseech thee.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Lay thy soft—O lay thy snowy hand</div> + <div class="verse indent6">On my bosom;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Feel my heart—how my throbbing heart</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Beats and trembles</div> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span> + <div class="verse indent0">With the flowing blood entangled,</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Deeply sighing!</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From thy countenance of gladness</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Tears of sorrow</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Drop! Come, contemplate with pity</div> + <div class="verse indent6">My fate’s darkness;</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I will ask not for forgiveness</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Of my errors,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But that thou mayst love me—love me,</div> + <div class="verse indent6">Thou, my angel!</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + + +<p class='center mt2'> + THE END. +</p> + + +<p class='center mt4'> + LONDON:<br> + PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS. +</p> + + +<div class="footnotes"> +<h3 id="FOOTNOTES_5"> + FOOTNOTES: +</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_1_27" href="#FNanchor_1_27" class="label">[1]</a> The versification of the above song is so singular, and at first +sight involved, that I doubted if I ought to preserve it. It is not +without harmony, and, when the accent is caught, it will, I imagine, +be deemed musical.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class='fs120'>˘ ˘ ¯ ¯, ˘ ˘ ¯ ¯, ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘,</span></div> + <div class="verse indent0"><span class='fs120'>˘ ˘ ¯ ¯, ˘ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘ ¯ ˘</span></div> + </div> + </div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a id="Footnote_2_28" href="#FNanchor_2_28" class="label">[2]</a> Taper burning before a saint.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span></p> +</div> + +<div class='advertisements'> +<div class='block-center'> +<p class='fs80'> <i>Just published</i>,</p> +<p class='allsmcap'>BY THE SAME AUTHOR,</p> + +<p class='fs120'>MATINS AND VESPERS,</p> + +<p class='allsmcap'>WITH</p> + +<p>HYMNS AND OCCASIONAL DEVOTIONAL PIECES.</p> + +<p class='fs110'><span class="smcap">Price</span> 6<i>s.</i></p> + +<p class='allsmcap'>PUBLISHED BY G. AND W. B. WHITTAKER, AVE-MARIA LANE;<br> +AND ROWLAND HUNTER, ST. PAUL’S CHURCH-YARD.</p> + +<div class='mt2'> +<p class='allsmcap'> + ALSO, +</p></div> + +<p class='fs120'>DETAILS</p> + +<p class='allsmcap'>OF THE</p> + +<p>ARREST, IMPRISONMENT, AND LIBERATION</p> + +<p class='allsmcap'>OF</p> + +<p><i>AN ENGLISHMAN</i>,</p> + +<p class='allsmcap'>BY THE BOURBON GOVERNMENT OF FRANCE.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Price</span> 4<i>s.</i></p> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span></p> +</div> + + <p class="center nobreak mt2 fs150 ls2" id="WORKS"> + WORKS + </p> + + +<p class='center allsmcap mth'>RECENTLY PUBLISHED</p> + +<p class='center mth'>BY G. AND W. B. WHITTAKER,</p> + +<p class='center mth'><i>AVE-MARIA LANE</i>.</p> + +<hr class='r5'> + +<p>SPECIMENS of the RUSSIAN POETS. Translated by <span class="smcap">John +BOWRING</span>, F.L.S., and Honorary Member of several Foreign Societies: +with Biographical and Critical Notices. Second Edition, with Additions, +12mo. Vol. I. price 7s. boards.</p> + + +<p class='mt1'>An HISTORICAL REVIEW of the SPANISH REVOLUTION; +including some Account of Religion, Manners, and Literature +in Spain. By <span class="smcap">Edward Blaquiere</span>, Esq. Author of “Letters from +the Mediterranean,” &c.—In One thick Volume, 8vo. illustrated with a +Map, price 18s. boards.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“It is impossible to peruse this volume without feelings of the most affecting +and irresistible nature. The proudest deed to which a human being can aspire +is to put his hand to such a work as this; and, in the belief that Mr. Blaquiere’s +labours are calculated materially to promote its success, we congratulate him in +the devotion of his time and thoughts to so noble an object.”—<i>Monthly Mag. +Sept. 1822.</i></p> + +<p>“The affairs of the country to which Europe is indebted for its liberation +from the dominion of Napoleon, and the recent example of political freedom, +acquire every day an increased interest with all liberal Englishmen. No complete +account, however, of the <i>Spanish Revolution</i> was in possession of the +public, till the above work of Mr. Blaquiere made its appearance. It is written +with much spirit and animation, and a zeal for truth is one of its most characteristic +features.”—<i>Morning Chronicle, Sept. 13, 1822.</i></p> + +<p>“A Work has just been published, entitled <i>An Historical Review of the +Spanish Revolution</i>. None can find fault with the author’s selection of his +subject; and he has executed his task in a manner not unworthy of it. This +book contains much and various information, entirely new to the public.”—<i>British +Press, Sept. 11, 1822.</i></p> + +<p>“The Work before us affords ample proof that its author is possessed of +powers of research, and of acute observation. The limits and nature of our +work prevent our doing more than passing a favorable judgment, and giving this +general outline of the design and execution of Mr. Blaquiere’s volume; but there +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span> +is no class of readers who can peruse the work without an acquisition of valuable +knowledge, or without its awakening a train of the most useful and pleasurable +reflections.”—<i>European Magazine, Nov. 1822.</i></p> + +<p>“We certainly want such books as that now before us: we do not know +enough of the most interesting events of which it treats; at least, we have +seldom been called upon to look at them through so impartial and national a +medium as Mr. Blaquiere’s Review.”—<i>Literary Register, Sept. 7, 1822.</i></p> + +<p>“Mr. Blaquiere’s former productions have established for him an honourable +place in English literature; and the ardent spirit of integrity, and love of right, +which breathes through the present pages, entitle him to considerable distinction +as a philanthropist, while their composition do him great credit as an author.”—<i>Paris +Monthly Review, Nov. 1822.</i></p> +</blockquote> + + +<p class='mt1'>ANECDOTES of the SPANISH and PORTUGUESE REVOLUTIONS. +By Count <span class="smcap">Pecchio</span>, an Italian Exile. With an Introduction +and Notes. By <span class="smcap">Edward Blaquiere</span>, Esq. Author of +“Letters from the Mediterranean,” “An Historical Review of the +Spanish Revolution,” &c. With a striking Likeness of General Riego. +8vo. price 7s. 6d. boards.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p class='center'><sup>*</sup><sub>*</sub><sup>*</sup> Proof Impressions of the Portrait may be had separate, price 2s. 6d.</p> +</blockquote> + +<p class='mt1'>JOURNAL of a TOUR in FRANCE, SWITZERLAND, and +ITALY, during the Years 1819, 20, and 21. By <span class="smcap">Marianne Colston</span>. +In Two Volumes, 8vo. price 1<i>l.</i> 1s. boards.</p> + + +<p class='mt1 center allsmcap'> + ALSO, +</p> + +<p>FIFTY LITHOGRAPHIC PRINTS, illustrative of the above +Tour, from Original Drawings taken in Italy, the Alps, and the Pyrenees. +By <span class="smcap">Marianne Colston</span>. Large folio. 2<i>l.</i> boards.</p> + + +<p class='mt1'>JOURNAL of a VOYAGE to GREENLAND, in the Year 1821. +With Graphic Illustrations. By <span class="smcap">G. W. Manby</span>, Esq. Second Edition, +8vo. 10s. 6d. boards.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“Some of Captain Manby’s descriptions of the dreadful beauties of the Frozen +Ocean are very happy; and his numerous plates of the fantastic shapes assumed +by the frozen atmosphere and waters are worthy of attention. We recommend +a perusal of the work, as combining much information with very considerable +entertainment.”—<i>European Magazine, Oct. 1822.</i></p> +</blockquote> + + +<p class='mt1'>RECOLLECTIONS of a CLASSICAL TOUR through various +Parts of GREECE, TURKEY, and ITALY, made in the Years 1818 +and 1819. By <span class="smcap">Peter Edmund Laurent</span>. Illustrated with coloured +Plates. Two Volumes 8vo. 18s. boards.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“From the limited size of Mr. Laurent’s Work, he has necessarily written +with great brevity, yet he has a good taste in the choice of his subjects: he +intersperses classical and antiquarian research with acute reflections and interesting +portraits of existing manners; and we consider his Work a valuable addition +to the information already known respecting those interesting portions of the +globe—Greece, Turkey, and Italy.”—<i>Literary Chronicle, June 2, 1821.</i></p> +</blockquote> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span></p> + + +<p class='mt1'>The LIFE and OPINIONS of SIR RICHARD MALTRAVERS, +an English Gentleman of the Seventeenth Century. In Two Volumes, +post 8vo. price 16s. boards.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“This is a philosophical romance, in which the author (Lord Dillon) launches +into speculations on all subjects, moral, political, civil, and religious. It is a +compound of ancient prejudice and modern philosophy; combining a great +veneration for the æra of chivalry, and the domination of the old feudal barons; +with a qualified predilection for popular rights and public freedom.—The +original tone of thinking of these volumes cannot but cause them to be much +read.”—<i>Monthly Magazine, 1822.</i></p> +</blockquote> + + +<p class='mt1'>A COLLECTION of POEMS on Various Subjects, from the Pen +of <span class="smcap">Helen Maria Williams</span>: with some Remarks on the present +State of Literature in France. In Octavo, price 12s. boards.</p> + + +<p class='mt1'>The LUCUBRATIONS of HUMPHREY RAVELIN, Esq. late +Major in the * * * * Regiment of Infantry. In Octavo, price 12s. +boards.</p> + + +<p class='mt1'>DECEMBER TALES. In One neat Volume, foolscap, price 5s. 6d. +boards.</p> + + +<p class='mt1'>SEQUEL to an UNFINISHED MANUSCRIPT of HENRY +KIRK WHITE, designed to illustrate the Contrast afforded by +Christians and Infidels at the Close of Life. By the Author of <i>The +Wonders of the Vegetable Kingdom displayed</i>, &c. Foolscap, price 4s. +boards.</p> + + +<p class='mt1'>The PEERAGE CHART for 1823. Corrected to the present +Time. This Chart contains the complete <i>Peerages</i> of the <i>United Kingdom</i>, +alphabetically arranged, with the following particulars of each Member:—The +Title; Title of the Eldest Son; Surname; Dates of the <i>first</i> +and <i>last</i> Creation; Precedence; Age; whether Married, Bachelor, or +Widower; Number of Children, <i>Male</i> and <i>Female</i>; Knights of the +Garter, Thistle, &c.; Lord Lieutenants; Privy Counsellors; Roman +Catholics; and Peers’ Eldest Sons who are Members of the present Parliament. +It also shows by what means the Peerage was obtained, that is +to say, whether by Naval, Military, Legal, or other Services; and states +the <i>Century</i> to which each Peer can trace his <i>Paternal</i> Ancestry; thus +exhibiting, at one view, much interesting information, and forming, upon +the whole, a complete Peerage in Miniature. Printed upon a sheet of +drawing-paper, and embellished with the Coronets of the several Orders +of Nobility, tastefully coloured. Price 5s. On canvas, in a neat case +for the pocket. 8s.; on canvas and rollers, 10s.</p> + + +<p class='mt1'>The BARONETAGE CHART for 1823, printed uniformly with +the above, and containing the Baronets of the United Kingdom of Great +Britain and Ireland, with Emblematic Ornaments, handsomely coloured.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“Two most useful and perfect sheets for library and office furniture have +appeared under the title of a Peerage and a Baronetage Chart. They exhibit +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span> +every required fact relative to these Classes, in columns, and therefore contain +several thousand facts, which, with the necessary repetitions of words, would fill +each a large volume. They appear to be compiled with a degree of care which +entitles them to our warmest commendation, and in their typography they rank +among the best specimens of the art.”—<i>Monthly Magazine.</i> See also the +<i>Gentleman’s Magazine</i>, <i>Literary Chronicle</i>, &c. &c.</p> +</blockquote> + + +<p class='mt1'>The SECRETARY’S ASSISTANT; exhibiting the various and +most correct Modes of Superscription, Commencement, and Conclusion +of Letters to Persons of every Degree of Rank; including the Diplomatic, +Clerical, and Judicial Dignitaries; with Lists of the Foreign Ambassadors +and Consuls. Also, the Forms necessary to be used in Applications or +Petitions to the King in Council, Houses of Lords and Commons, Government +Offices, Public Companies, &c. &c. By the Author of the +Peerage Chart, &c. Price 5s. extra boards. Second edition.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“This work will prove highly useful to young correspondents, and even afford +information to those whose avocations or connexions require their occasional +correspondence with persons of superior rank. The compiler seems to have used +considerable diligence in ensuring accuracy.”—<i>Gentleman’s Magazine.</i></p> + +<p>“This little work is a desirable appendage to the writing-desk, and fully +enables its possessor to fulfil the precepts delivered to us in the Scriptures:—‘Give +unto every man his proper title, lest he be offended, and ye betray your +ignorance.’”—<i>New Monthly Magazine.</i></p> + +<p>“The Secretary’s Assistant is an infallible guide, and we give it our hearty +recommendation.”—<i>Literary Chronicle.</i></p> +</blockquote> + + +<p class='mt1'>VALPERGA; or, The LIFE and ADVENTURES of CASTRUCCIO, +PRINCE of LUCCA. By the Author of Frankenstein. +In Three Volumes, 12mo. price 21s. boards.</p> + +<blockquote> +<p>“Valperga is a work which requires only to be read, in order to be ardently +admired; and we venture to prophesy that it will maintain its station upon the +favourite shelf of every good library, when thousands of works of a similar +description, that have had some popularity, shall have sunk into eternal +oblivion.”</p> +</blockquote> + + +<p class='mt1'>HIGHWAYS and BYWAYS; or, <span class="smcap">Tales</span> of the <span class="smcap">Road-side</span>, +picked up in the French Provinces. By a <span class="smcap">Walking Gentleman</span>. +Octavo, price 13s. boards.</p> + + +<p class='mt1'>A HISTORY of ANCIENT INSTITUTIONS, CUSTOMS, +and INVENTIONS; selected and abridged from the Beytrage zur +Geschichte der Eraudungen of Professor <span class="smcap">Beckmann</span>, of the University +of Gottingen. With various important Additions. In Two Volumes, +12mo. price 15s. boards.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter transnote"> + <h2 class="nobreak" id="Transcribers_Notes"> + Transcriber’s Notes + </h2> + + +<ul> +<li>Footnotes renumbered consecutively within each chapter and moved +to the end of those respective chapters.</li> + +<li>Obvious typographic errors silently corrected.</li> + +<li>Variations in hypenation and spelling kept as in the original.</li> + +<li>Duplicate chapter titles omitted.</li> + +<li>The spellings of “Ostiak” and “Ostjak” from the original have been +standardized to the modern “Ostyak”.</li> + +<li>New origial cover art included with this eBook is granted to the +public domain.</li> +</ul> + +</div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78745 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78745-h/images/cover.jpg b/78745-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..45aa03d --- /dev/null +++ b/78745-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c72794 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This book, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0489f84 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook #78745 +(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/78745) |
