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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/8192-h.zip b/8192-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c52df28 --- /dev/null +++ b/8192-h.zip diff --git a/8192-h/8192-h.htm b/8192-h/8192-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ddf6bad --- /dev/null +++ b/8192-h/8192-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2114 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<title>The Bakchesarian Fountain</title> +<style type="text/css"> +<!-- +body {margin-left:5%; margin-right:10%;} +H1{Font-Family: Arial, Helvetica, Sans-Serif;Font-Size: 130%;Font-Weight: bold;} +H2{Font-Family: Arial, Helvetica, Sans-Serif;Font-Size: 120%;Font-Weight: bold;} +H3{Font-Family: Arial, Helvetica, Sans-Serif;Font-Size: 110%;Font-Weight: bold;Margin-Top: 6em} +P{Font-Family: Times, "Times New Roman", Serif;} +HR{Text-Align: left;width: 30%;} +.fnsuper{Font-Family: Times, "Times New Roman", Serif;Font-Size: 70%;Vertical-Align: top;} +.footnote{Font-Size: 90%;Margin-Left: 2em;} +.centered{Text-Align: center;} +.indent{Margin-Left: 2em;} +--> +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bakchesarian Fountain and Other Poems, by +Alexander Pushkin and Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Bakchesarian Fountain and Other Poems + +Author: Alexander Pushkin + Various + +Translator: William D. Lewis + +Posting Date: October 14, 2012 [EBook #8192] +Release Date: May, 2005 +First Posted: June 30, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN, OTHER POEMS *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Robert Connal and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1 class="centered">THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN.<br> +<br> +BY<br> +<br> +ALEXANDER POOSHKEEN.</h1> + +<p> </p> + +<p> </p> + +<h2 class="centered">AND OTHER POEMS, BY VARIOUS AUTHORS,<br> +</h2> + +<p> </p> + +<p> </p> + +<h2 class="centered">TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL RUSSIAN,<br> +<br> +BY<br> +<br> +WILLIAM D. LEWIS.</h2> + +<p> </p> + +<p> </p> + +<p>TO<br> +<br> +MY RUSSIAN FRIENDS,<br> +<br> +THE FOLLOWING EFFORT TO RENDER INTO THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE A +FAVOURITE POEM OF ONE OF THEIR MOST ADMIRED BARDS, AND SOME SHORTER +PRODUCTIONS OF OTHER RUSSIAN POETS, IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, AS A +SMALL TESTIMONIAL OF GRATITUDE FOR THE MANY KINDNESSES OF WHICH I +WAS THE OBJECT IN THEIR MOST HOSPITABLE COUNTRY, IN EARLY LIFE.</p> + +<p>THE TRANSLATOR.</p> + +<p>Philadelphia, July, 1849.</p> + +<h3>THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN.<br> +<br> +A TALE OF THE TAURIDE.</h3> + +<p>Mute sat Giray, with downcast eye,<br> + As though some spell in sorrow bound him,<br> + His slavish courtiers thronging nigh,<br> + In sad expectance stood around him.<br> + The lips of all had silence sealed,<br> + Whilst, bent on him, each look observant,<br> + Saw grief's deep trace and passion fervent<br> + Upon his gloomy brow revealed.<br> + But the proud Khan his dark eye raising,<br> + And on the courtiers fiercely gazing,<br> + Gave signal to them to begone!<br> + The chief, unwitnessed and alone,<br> + Now yields him to his bosom's smart,<br> + Deeper upon his brow severe<br> + Is traced the anguish of his heart;<br> + As full fraught clouds on mirrors clear<br> + Reflected terrible appear!<br> +</p> + +<p>What fills that haughty soul with pain?<br> + What thoughts such madd'ning tumults cause?<br> + With Russia plots he war again?<br> + Would he to Poland dictate laws?<br> + Say, is the sword of vengeance glancing?<br> + Does bold revolt claim nature's right?<br> + Do realms oppressed alarm excite?<br> + Or sabres of fierce foes advancing?<br> + Ah no! no more his proud steed prancing<br> + Beneath him guides the Khan to war,--<br> + Such thoughts his mind has banished far.<br> +</p> + +<p>Has treason scaled the harem's wall,<br> + Whose height might treason's self appal,<br> + And slavery's daughter fled his power,<br> + To yield her to the daring Giaour?<br> +</p> + +<p>No! pining in his harem sadly,<br> + No wife of his would act so madly;<br> + To wish or think they scarcely dare;<br> + By wretches, cold and heartless, guarded,<br> + Hope from each breast so long discarded;<br> + Treason could never enter there.<br> + Their beauties unto none revealed,<br> + They bloom within the harem's towers,<br> + As in a hot-house bloom the flowers<br> + Which erst perfumed Arabia's field.<br> + To them the days in sameness dreary,<br> + And months and years pass slow away,<br> + In solitude, of life grown weary,<br> + Well pleased they see their charms decay.<br> + Each day, alas! the past resembling,<br> + Time loiters through their halls and bowers;<br> + In idleness, and fear, and trembling,<br> + The captives pass their joyless hours.<br> + The youngest seek, indeed, reprieve<br> + Their hearts in striving to deceive<br> + Into oblivion of distress,<br> + By vain amusements, gorgeous dress,<br> + Or by the noise of living streams,<br> + In soft translucency meand'ring,<br> + To lose their thoughts in fancy's dreams,<br> + Through shady groves together wand'ring.<br> + But the vile eunuch too is there,<br> + In his base duty ever zealous,<br> + Escape is hopeless to the fair<br> + From ear so keen and eye so jealous.<br> + He ruled the harem, order reigned<br> + Eternal there; the trusted treasure<br> + He watched with loyalty unfeigned,<br> + His only law his chieftain's pleasure,<br> + Which as the Koran he maintained.<br> + His soul love's gentle flame derides,<br> + And like a statue he abides<br> + Hatred, contempt, reproaches, jests,<br> + Nor prayers relax his temper rigid,<br> + Nor timid sighs from tender breasts,<br> + To all alike the wretch is frigid.<br> + He knows how woman's sighs can melt,<br> + Freeman and bondman he had felt<br> + Her art in days when he was younger;<br> + Her silent tear, her suppliant look,<br> + Which once his heart confiding shook,<br> + Now move not,--he believes no longer!<br> +</p> + +<p>When, to relieve the noontide heat,<br> + The captives go their limbs to lave,<br> + And in sequestered, cool retreat<br> + Yield all their beauties to the wave,<br> + No stranger eye their charms may greet,<br> + But their strict guard is ever nigh,<br> + Viewing with unimpassioned eye<br> + These beauteous daughters of delight;<br> + He constant, even in gloom of night,<br> + Through the still harem cautious stealing,<br> + Silent, o'er carpet-covered floors,<br> + And gliding through half-opened doors,<br> + From couch to couch his pathway feeling,<br> + With envious and unwearied care<br> + Watching the unsuspecting fair;<br> + And whilst in sleep unguarded lying,<br> + Their slightest movement, breathing, sighing,<br> + He catches with devouring ear.<br> + O! curst that moment inauspicious<br> + Should some loved name in dreams be sighed,<br> + Or youth her unpermitted wishes<br> + To friendship venture to confide.<br> +</p> + +<hr> +<p>What pang is Giray's bosom tearing?<br> + Extinguished is his loved <em>chubouk</em>, <a name= +"fnr1"></a> <a href="#fn1" class="fnsuper">1</a><br> + Whilst or to move or breathe scarce daring,<br> + The eunuch watches every look;<br> + Quick as the chief, approaching near him,<br> + Beckons, the door is open thrown,<br> + And Giray wanders through his harem<br> + Where joy to him no more is known.<br> + Near to a fountain's lucid waters<br> + Captivity's unhappy daughters<br> + The Khan await, in fair array,<br> + Around on silken carpets crowded,<br> + Viewing, beneath a heaven unclouded,<br> + With childish joy the fishes play<br> + And o'er the marble cleave their way,<br> + Whose golden scales are brightly glancing,<br> + And on the mimic billows dancing.<br> + Now female slaves in rich attire<br> + Serve sherbet to the beauteous fair,<br> + Whilst plaintive strains from viewless choir<br> + Float sudden on the ambient air.<br> +</p> + +<p class = "indent">TARTAR SONG.</p> + +<p class = "indent">I.</p> + +<p class = "indent">Heaven visits man with days of sadness,<br> + Embitters oft his nights with tears;<br> + Blest is the Fakir who with gladness<br> + Views Mecca in declining years.<br> +</p> + +<p class = "indent">II.</p> + +<p class = "indent">Blest he who sees pale Death await him<br> + On Danube's ever glorious shore;<br> + The girls of Paradise shall greet him,<br> + And sorrows ne'er afflict him more.<br> +</p> + +<p class = "indent">III.</p> + +<p class = "indent">But he more blest, O beauteous Zarem!<br> + Who quits the world and all its woes,<br> + To clasp thy charms within the harem,<br> + Thou lovelier than the unplucked rose!<br> +</p> + +<p>They sing, but-where, alas! is Zarem,<br> + Love's star, the glory of the harem?<br> + Pallid and sad no praise she hears,<br> + Deaf to all sounds of joy her ears,<br> + Downcast with grief, her youthful form<br> + Yields like the palm tree to the storm,<br> + Fair Zarem's dreams of bliss are o'er,<br> + Her loved Giray loves her no more!<br> +</p> + +<p>He leaves thee! yet whose charms divine<br> + Can equal, fair Grusinian! thine?<br> + Shading thy brow, thy raven hair<br> + Its lily fairness makes more fair;<br> + Thine eyes of love appear more bright<br> + Than noonday's beam, more dark than night;<br> + Whose voice like thine can breathe of blisses,<br> + Filling the heart with soft desire?<br> + Like thine, ah! whose inflaming kisses<br> + Can kindle passion's wildest fire?<br> +</p> + +<p>Who that has felt thy twining arms<br> + Could quit them for another's charms?<br> + Yet cold, and passionless, and cruel,<br> + Giray can thy vast love despise,<br> + Passing the lonesome night in sighs<br> + Heaved for another; fiercer fuel<br> + Burns in his heart since the fair Pole<br> + Is placed within the chief's control.<br> +</p> + +<p>The young Maria recent war<br> + Had borne in conquest from afar;<br> + Not long her love-enkindling eyes<br> + Had gazed upon these foreign skies;<br> + Her aged father's boast and pride,<br> + She bloomed in beauty by his side;<br> + Each wish was granted ere expressed.<br> + She to his heart the object dearest,<br> + His sole desire to see her blessed;<br> + As when the skies from clouds are clearest,<br> + Still from her youthful heart to chase<br> + Her childish sorrows his endeavour,<br> + Hoping in after life that never<br> + Her woman's duties might efface<br> + Remembrance of her earlier hours,<br> + But oft that fancy would retrace<br> + Life's blissful spring-time decked in flowers.<br> + Her form a thousand charms unfolded,<br> + Her face by beauty's self was moulded,<br> + Her dark blue eyes were full of fire,--<br> + All nature's stores on her were lavished;<br> + The magic harp with soft desire,<br> + When touched by her, the senses ravished.<br> + Warriors and knights had sought in vain<br> + Maria's virgin heart to move,<br> + And many a youth in secret pain<br> + Pined for her in despairing love.<br> + But love she knew not, in her breast<br> + Tranquil it had not yet intruded,<br> + Her days in mirth, her nights in rest,<br> + In her paternal halls secluded,<br> + Passed heedless, peace her bosom's guest.<br> +</p> + +<p>That time is past! The Tartar's force<br> + Rushed like a torrent o'er her nation,--<br> + Rages less fierce the conflagration<br> + Devouring harvests in its course,--<br> + Poland it swept with devastation,<br> + Involving all in equal fate,<br> + The villages, once mirthful, vanished,<br> + From their red ruins joy was banished,<br> + The gorgeous palace desolate!<br> + Maria is the victor's prize;--<br> + Within the palace chapel laid,<br> + Slumb'ring among th'illustrious dead,<br> + In recent tomb her father lies;<br> + His ancestors repose around,<br> + Long freed from life and its alarms;<br> + With coronets and princely arms<br> + Bedecked their monuments abound!<br> + A base successor now holds sway,--<br> + Maria's natal halls his hand<br> + Tyrannic rules, and strikes dismay<br> + And wo throughout the ravaged land.<br> +</p> + +<p>Alas! the Princess sorrow's chalice<br> + Is fated to the dregs to drain,<br> + Immured in Bakchesaria's palace<br> + She sighs for liberty in vain;<br> + The Khan observes the maiden's pain,<br> + His heart is at her grief afflicted,<br> + His bosom strange emotions fill,<br> + And least of all Maria's will<br> + Is by the harem's laws restricted.<br> + The hateful guard, of all the dread,<br> + Learns silent to respect and fear her,<br> + His eye ne'er violates her bed,<br> + Nor day nor night he ventures near her;<br> + To her he dares not speak rebuke,<br> + Nor on her cast suspecting look.<br> + Her bath she sought by none attended,<br> + Except her chosen female slave,<br> + The Khan to her such freedom gave;<br> + But rarely he himself offended<br> + By visits, the desponding fair,<br> + Remotely lodged, none else intruded;<br> + It seemed as though some jewel rare,<br> + Something unearthly were secluded,<br> + And careful kept untroubled there.<br> +</p> + +<p>Within her chamber thus secure,<br> + By virtue guarded, chaste and pure,<br> + The lamp of faith, incessant burning,<br> + The VIRGIN'S image blest illumed,<br> + The comfort of the spirit mourning<br> + And trust of those to sorrow doomed.<br> + The holy symbol's face reflected<br> + The rays of hope in splendour bright,<br> + And the rapt soul by faith directed<br> + To regions of eternal light.<br> + Maria, near the VIRGIN kneeling,<br> + In silence gave her anguish way,<br> + Unnoticed by the crowd unfeeling,<br> + And whilst the rest, or sad or gay,<br> + Wasted in idleness the day,<br> + The sacred image still concealing,<br> + Before it pouring forth her prayer,<br> + She watched with ever jealous care;<br> + Even as our hearts to error given,<br> + Yet lighted by a spark from heaven,<br> + Howe'er from virtue's paths we swerve,<br> + One holy feeling still preserve.<br> +</p> + +<hr> +<p>Now night invests with black apparel<br> + Luxurious Tauride's verdant fields,<br> + Whilst her sweet notes from groves of laurel<br> + The plaintive Philomela yields.<br> + But soon night's glorious queen, advancing<br> + Through cloudless skies to the stars' song,<br> + Scatters the hills and dales along,<br> + The lustre of her rays entrancing.<br> + In Bakchesaria's streets roamed free<br> + The Tartars' wives in garb befitting,<br> + They like unprisoned shades were flitting<br> + From house to house their friends to see,<br> + And while the evening hours away<br> + In harmless sports or converse gay.<br> + The inmates of the harem slept;--<br> + Still was the palace, night impending<br> + O'er all her silent empire kept;<br> + The eunuch guard, no more offending<br> + The fair ones by his presence, now<br> + Slumbered, but fear his soul attending<br> + Troubled his rest and knit his brow;<br> + Suspicion kept his fancy waking,<br> + And on his mind incessant preyed,<br> + The air the slightest murmur breaking<br> + Assailed his ear with sounds of dread.<br> + Now, by some noise deceitful cheated,<br> + Starts from his sleep the timid slave,<br> + Listens to hear the noise repeated,<br> + But all is silent as the grave,<br> + Save where the fountains softly sounding<br> + Break from their marble prisons free,<br> + Or night's sweet birds the scene surrounding<br> + Pour forth their notes of melody:<br> + Long does he hearken to the strain,<br> + Then sinks fatigued in sleep again.<br> +</p> + +<p>Luxurious East! how soft thy nights,<br> + What magic through the soul they pour!<br> + How fruitful they of fond delights<br> + To those who Mahomet adore!<br> + What splendour in each house is found,<br> + Each garden seems enchanted ground;<br> + Within the harem's precincts quiet<br> + Beneath fair Luna's placid ray,<br> + When angry feelings cease to riot<br> + There love inspires with softer sway!<br> +</p> + +<hr> +<p>The women sleep;--but one is there<br> + Who sleeps not; goaded by despair<br> + Her couch she quits with dread intent,<br> + On awful errand is she bent;<br> + Breathless she through the door swift flying<br> + Passes unseen; her timid feet<br> + Scarce touch the floor, she glides so fleet.<br> + In doubtful slumber restless lying<br> + The eunuch thwarts the fair one's path,<br> + Ah! who can speak his bosom's wrath?<br> + False is the quiet sleep would throw<br> + Around that gray and care-worn brow;<br> + She like a spirit vanished by<br> + Viewless, unheard as her own sigh!<br> +</p> + +<hr> +<p>The door she reaches, trembling opes,<br> + Enters, and looks around with awe,<br> + What sorrows, anguish, terrors, hopes,<br> + Rushed through her heart at what she saw!<br> + The image of the sacred maid,<br> + The Christian's matron, reigning there,<br> + And cross attracted first the fair,<br> + By the dim lamp-light scarce displayed!<br> + Oh! Grusinka, of earlier days<br> + The vision burst upon thy soul,<br> + The tongue long silent uttered praise,<br> + The heart throbs high, but sin's control<br> + Cannot escape, 'tis passion, passion sways!<br> +</p> + +<p>The Princess in a maid's repose<br> + Slumbered, her cheek, tinged like the rose,<br> + By feverish thought, in beauty blooms,<br> + And the fresh tear that stains her face<br> + A smile of tenderness illumes.<br> + Thus cheers the moon fair Flora's race,<br> + When by the rain opprest they lie<br> + The charm and grief of every eye!<br> + It seemed as though an angel slept<br> + From heaven descended, who, distressed,<br> + Vented the feelings of his breast,<br> + And for the harem's inmates wept!<br> + Alas! poor Zarem, wretched fair,<br> + By anguish urged to mere despair,<br> + On bended knee, in tone subdued<br> + And melting strain, for pity sued.<br> +</p> + +<p> "Oh! spurn not such a suppliant's prayer!"<br> + Her tones so sad, her sighs so deep,<br> + Startled the Princess in her sleep;<br> + Wond'ring, she views with dread before her<br> + The stranger beauty, frighted hears<br> + For mercy her soft voice implore her,<br> + Raises her up with trembling hand,<br> + And makes of her the quick demand,<br> + "Who speaks? in night's still hour alone,<br> + Wherefore art here?" "A wretched one,<br> + To thee I come," the fair replied,<br> + "A suitor not to be denied;<br> + Hope, hope alone my soul sustains;<br> + Long have I happiness enjoyed,<br> + And lived from sorrow free and care,<br> + But now, alas! a prey to pains<br> + And terrors, Princess hear my prayer,<br> + Oh! listen, or I am destroyed!<br> +</p> + +<p>Not here beheld I first the light,<br> + Far hence my native land, but yet<br> + Alas! I never can forget<br> + Objects once precious to my sight;<br> + Well I remember towering mountains,<br> + Snow-ridged, replete with boiling fountains,<br> + Woods pervious scarce to wolf or deer,<br> + Nor faith, nor manners such as here;<br> + But, by what cruel fate o'ercome,<br> + How I was snatched, or when, from home<br> + I know not,--well the heaving ocean<br> + Do I remember, and its roar,<br> + But, ah! my heart such wild commotion<br> + As shakes it now ne'er felt before.<br> + I in the harem's quiet bloomed,<br> + Tranquil myself, waiting, alas!<br> + With willing heart what love had doomed;<br> + Its secret wishes came to pass:<br> + Giray his peaceful harem sought,<br> + For feats of war no longer burned,<br> + Nor, pleased, upon its horrors thought,<br> + To these fair scenes again returned.<br> +</p> + +<p>"Before the Khan with bosoms beating<br> + We stood, timid my eyes I raised,<br> + When suddenly our glances meeting,<br> + I drank in rapture as I gazed;<br> + He called me to him,--from that hour<br> + We lived in bliss beyond the power<br> + Of evil thought or wicked word,<br> + The tongue of calumny unheard,<br> + Suspicion, doubt, or jealous fear,<br> + Of weariness alike unknown,<br> + Princess, thou comest a captive here,<br> + And all my joys are overthrown,<br> + Giray with sinful passion burns,<br> + His soul possessed of thee alone,<br> + My tears and sighs the traitor spurns;<br> + No more his former thoughts, nor feeling<br> + For me now cherishes Giray,<br> + Scarce his disgust, alas! concealing,<br> + He from my presence hastes away.<br> + Princess, I know the fault not thine<br> + That Giray loves thee, oh! then hear<br> + A suppliant wretch, nor spurn her prayer!<br> +</p> + +<p> Throughout the harem none but thou<br> + Could rival beauties such as mine<br> + Nor make him violate his vow;<br> + Yet, Princess! in thy bosom cold<br> + The heart to mine left thus forlorn,<br> + The love I feel cannot be told,<br> + For passion, Princess, was I born.<br> + Yield me Giray then; with these tresses<br> + Oft have his wandering fingers played,<br> + My lips still glow with his caresses,<br> + Snatched as he sighed, and swore, and prayed,<br> + Oaths broken now so often plighted!<br> + Hearts mingled once now disunited!<br> + His treason I cannot survive;<br> + Thou seest I weep, I bend my knee,<br> + Ah! if to pity thou'rt alive,<br> + My former love restore to me.<br> + Reply not! thee I do not blame,<br> + Thy beauties have bewitched Giray,<br> + Blinded his heart to love and fame,<br> + Then yield him up to me, I pray,<br> + Or by contempt, repulse, or grief,<br> + Turn from thy love th'ungenerous chief!<br> + Swear by thy <em>faith</em>, for what though mine<br> + Conform now to the Koran's laws,<br> + Acknowledged here within the harem,<br> + Princess, my mother's faith was thine,<br> + By that faith swear to give to Zarem<br> + Giray unaltered, as he was!<br> + But listen! the sad prey to scorn<br> + If I must live, Princess, have care,<br> + A dagger still doth Zarem wear,--<br> + I near the Caucasus was born!"<br> +</p> + +<p>She spake, then sudden disappeared,<br> + And left the Princess in dismay,<br> + Who scarce knew what or why she feared;<br> + Such words of passion till that day<br> + She ne'er had heard. Alas! was she<br> + To be the ruthless chieftain's prey?<br> + Vain was all hope his grasp to flee.<br> + Oh! God, that in some dungeon's gloom<br> + Remote, forgotten, she had lain,<br> + Or that it were her blessed doom<br> + To 'scape dishonour, life, and pain!<br> + How would Maria with delight<br> + This world of wretchedness resign;<br> + Vanished of youth her visions bright,<br> + Abandoned she to fates malign!<br> + Sinless she to the world was given,<br> + And so remains, thus pure and fair,<br> + Her soul is called again to heaven,<br> + And angel joys await it there!<br> +</p> + +<hr> +<p>Days passed away; Maria slept<br> + Peaceful, no cares disturbed her, now,--<br> + From earth the orphan maid was swept.<br> + But who knew when, or where, or how?<br> + If prey to grief or pain she fell,<br> + If slain or heaven-struck, who can tell?<br> + She sleeps; her loss the chieftain grieves,<br> + And his neglected harem leaves,<br> + Flies from its tranquil precincts far,<br> + And with his Tartars takes the field,<br> + Fierce rushes mid the din of war,<br> + And brave the foe that does not yield,<br> + For mad despair hath nerved his arm,<br> + Though in his heart is grief concealed,<br> + With passion's hopeless transports warm.<br> + His blade he swings aloft in air<br> + And wildly brandishes, then low<br> + It falls, whilst he with pallid stare<br> + Gazes, and tears in torrents flow.<br> +</p> + +<p>His harem by the chief deserted,<br> + In foreign lands he warring roved,<br> + Long nor in wish nor thought reverted<br> + To scene once cherished and beloved.<br> + His women to the eunuch's rage<br> + Abandoned, pined and sank in age;<br> + The fair Grusinian now no more<br> + Yielded her soul to passion's power,<br> + Her fate was with Maria's blended,<br> + On the same night their sorrows ended;<br> + Seized by mute guards the hapless fair<br> + Into a deep abyss they threw,--<br> + If vast her crime, through love's despair,<br> + Her punishment was dreadful too!<br> +</p> + +<p>At length th'exhausted Khan returned,<br> + Enough of waste his sword had dealt,<br> + The Russian cot no longer burned,<br> + Nor Caucasus his fury felt.<br> + In token of Maria's loss<br> + A marble fountain he upreared<br> + In spot recluse;--the Christian's cross<br> + Upon the monument appeared,<br> + (Surmounting it a crescent bright,<br> + Emblem of ignorance and night!)<br> + Th'inscription mid the silent waste<br> + Not yet has time's rude hand effaced,<br> + Still do the gurgling waters pour<br> + Their streams dispensing sadness round,<br> + As mothers weep for sons no more,<br> + In never-ending sorrows drowned.<br> + In morn fair maids, (and twilight late,)<br> + Roam where this monument appears,<br> + And pitying poor Maria's fate<br> + Entitle it the FOUNT OF TEARS!<br> +</p> + +<hr> +<p>My native land abandoned long,<br> + I sought this realm of love and song.<br> + Through Bakchesaria's palace wandered,<br> + Upon its vanished greatness pondered;<br> + All silent now those spacious halls,<br> + And courts deserted, once so gay<br> + With feasters thronged within their walls,<br> + Carousing after battle fray.<br> + Even now each desolated room<br> + And ruined garden luxury breathes,<br> + The fountains play, the roses bloom,<br> + The vine unnoticed twines its wreaths,<br> + Gold glistens, shrubs exhale perfume.<br> + The shattered casements still are there<br> + Within which once, in days gone by,<br> + Their beads of amber chose the fair,<br> + And heaved the unregarded sigh;<br> + The cemetery there I found,<br> + Of conquering khans the last abode,<br> + Columns with marble turbans crowned<br> + Their resting-place the traveller showed,<br> + And seemed to speak fate's stern decree,<br> + "As they are now such all shall be!"<br> + Where now those chiefs? the harem where?<br> + Alas! how sad scene once so fair!<br> + Now breathless silence chains the air!<br> + But not of this my mind was full,<br> + The roses' breath, the fountains flowing,<br> + The sun's last beam its radiance throwing<br> + Around, all served my heart to lull<br> + Into forgetfulness, when lo!<br> + A maiden's shade, fairer than snow,<br> + Across the court swift winged its flight;--<br> + Whose shade, oh friends! then struck my sight?<br> + Whose beauteous image hovering near<br> + Filled me with wonder and with fear?<br> + Maria's form beheld I then?<br> + Or was it the unhappy Zarem,<br> + Who jealous thither came again<br> + To roam through the deserted harem?<br> + That tender look I cannot flee,<br> + Those charms still earthly still I see!<br> +</p> + +<hr> +<p>He who the muse and peace adores,<br> + Forgetting glory, love, and gold,<br> + Again thy ever flowery shores<br> + Soon, Salgir! joyful shall behold;<br> + The bard shall wind thy rocky ways<br> + Filled with fond sympathies, shall view<br> + Tauride's bright skies and waves of blue<br> + With greedy and enraptured gaze.<br> + Enchanting region! full of life<br> + Thy hills, thy woods, thy leaping streams,<br> + Ambered and rubied vines, all rife<br> + With pleasure, spot of fairy dreams!<br> + Valleys of verdure, fruits, and flowers,<br> + Cool waterfalls and fragrant bowers!<br> + All serve the traveller's heart to fill<br> + With joy as he in hour of morn<br> + By his accustomed steed is borne<br> + In safety o'er dell, rock, and hill,<br> + Whilst the rich herbage, bent with dews,<br> + Sparkles and rustles on the ground,<br> + As he his venturous path pursues<br> + Where AYOUDAHGA'S crags surround!<br> +</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="fn1"></a> <a href="#fnr1">[1]</a> A +Turkish pipe.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p> </p> + +<h2>AMATORY AND OTHER POEMS,<br> +BY VARIOUS RUSSIAN AUTHORS.</h2> + +<p> </p> + +<p> </p> + +<p>[Several of the following translations were published +anonymously, many years since, in the "National Gazette," when +edited by Robert Walsh, Esq., and in the "Atlantic Souvenir," and +other periodicals.]</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p> </p> + +<h2>AMATORY AND OTHER POEMS.</h2> + +<h3>SONG.</h3> + +<p>I through gay and brilliant places<br> + Long my wayward course had bound,<br> + Oft had gazed on beauteous faces,<br> + But no loved one yet had found.<br> +</p> + +<p>Careless, onward did I saunter,<br> + Seeking no beloved to see,<br> + Rather dreading such encounter,<br> + Wishing ever to be free.<br> +</p> + +<p>Thus from all temptation fleeing,<br> + Hoped I long unchecked to rove,<br> + 'Till the fair Louisa seeing,--<br> + Who can see her, and not love?<br> +</p> + +<p>Sol, his splendid robes arrayed in,<br> + Just behind the hills was gone,<br> + When one eve I saw the maiden<br> + Tripping o'er the verdant lawn.<br> +</p> + +<p>Of a strange, tumultuous feeling,<br> + As I gazed I felt the sway,<br> + And, with brain on fire and reeling,<br> + Homeward quick I bent my way.<br> +</p> + +<p>Through my bosom rapid darting,<br> + Love 'twas plain I could not brave,<br> + And with boasted freedom parting,<br> + I became Louisa's slave.<br> +</p> + +<h3>THE HUSBAND'S LAMENT.<br> +<br> +BY P. PELSKY.</h3> + +<p>Parted now, alas! for ever<br> + From the object of my heart,<br> + Thus by cruel fate afflicted,<br> + Grief shall be my only part,<br> +</p> + +<p>I, bereft of her blest presence,<br> + Shall my life in anguish spend,<br> + Joy a stranger to my bosom,<br> + Wo with every thought shall blend.<br> +</p> + +<p>Double was my meed of pleasure<br> + When in it a share she bore,<br> + Of my pains, though keen and piercing,<br> + Viewing her I thought no more.<br> +</p> + +<p>All is past! and I, unhappy,<br> + Here on earth am left alone,<br> + All my transports now are vanished,<br> + Blissful hours! how swiftly flown.<br> +</p> + +<p>Vainly friends, with kind compassion,<br> + Me to calm my grief conjure,<br> + Vainly strive my heart to comfort,<br> + It the grave alone can cure.<br> +</p> + +<p>Fate one hope allows me only,<br> + Which allays my bosom's pain--<br> + Death our loving hearts divided,<br> + Death our hearts can join again!<br> +</p> + +<h3>COUNSEL.<br> +<br> +BY DMEETRIEFF.</h3> + +<p>Youth, those moments so entrancing,<br> + Spend in sports and pleasures gay,<br> + Mirth and singing, love and dancing,<br> + Like a shade thou'lt pass away!<br> +</p> + +<p>Nature points the way before us,<br> + Friends to her sweet voice give ear,<br> + Form the dances, raise the chorus,<br> + We but for an hour are here.<br> +</p> + +<p>Think the term of mirth and pleasure<br> + Comes no more when once gone by,<br> + Let us prize life's only treasure,<br> + Blest with love and jollity.<br> +</p> + +<p>And the bard all sorrows scorning,<br> + Who, though old, still joins your ring,<br> + With gay wreaths of flowers adorning<br> + Crown him that he still may sing.<br> +</p> + +<p>Youth, those moments so entrancing,<br> + Spend in sports and pleasures gay,<br> + Mirth and singing, love and dancing,<br> + Like a shade thou'lt pass away!<br> +</p> + +<h3>STANZAS.<br> +<br> +BY NELAIDINSKY.</h3> + +<p>He whose soul from sorrow dreary,<br> + Weak and wretched, nought can save,<br> + Who in sadness, sick and weary,<br> + Hopes no refuge but the grave;<br> + On his visage Pleasure beaming,<br> + Ne'er shall shed her placid ray,<br> + Till kind Fate, from wo redeeming,<br> + Leads him to his latest day.<br> +</p> + +<p>Thou this life preservest ever,<br> + My distress and my delight!<br> + And, though soul and body sever,<br> + Still I'll live a spirit bright;<br> + In my breast the heart that's kindled<br> + Death's dread strength can ne'er destroy,<br> + Sure the soul with thine that's mingled<br> + Must immortal life enjoy!<br> +</p> + +<p>That inspired by breath from heaven<br> + Need not shrink at mortal doom,<br> + To thee shall my vows be given<br> + In this world and that to come.<br> + My fond shade shall constant trace thee,<br> + And attend in friendly guise,<br> + Still surround thee, still embrace thee,<br> + Catch thy thoughts, thy looks, thy sighs.<br> +</p> + +<p>To divine its secret pondering,<br> + Close to clasp thy soul 'twill brave,<br> + And if chance shall find thee wandering<br> + Heedless near my silent grave,<br> + Even my ashes then shall tremble,<br> + Thy approach relume their fire,<br> + And that stone in dust shall crumble,<br> + Covering what can ne'er expire!<br> +</p> + +<h3>ODE TO THE WARRIORS OF THE DON.<br> +<br> +WRITTEN IN 1812, BY N.M. SHATROFF.</h3> + +<p>Sudden o'er Moscow rolls the dread thunder,<br> + Fierce o'er his proud borders Don's torrents flow,<br> + High swells each bosom, glowing with vengeance<br> + 'Gainst +the base foe.<br> +</p> + +<p>Scarce in loud accents spoke our good Monarch,<br> + "Soldiers of Russia! Moscow burns bright,<br> + Foemen destroy her,"--hundreds of thousands<br> + Rush +to the fight.<br> +</p> + +<p>"Who dare oppose God? who oppose Russians?"<br> + Cried the brave Hetman,--steeds round him tramp,--<br> + "The Frenchman's ashes quickly we'll scatter,<br> + Show +us his camp!<br> +</p> + +<p>"TSAR true-believing we are all ready,<br> + Thy throne's defenders, each proud heart bent<br> + By the assault th' invader's black projects<br> + To +circumvent.<br> +</p> + +<p>"Russians well know the rough road to glory,<br> + Rhine's banks by our troops soon shall be trod,<br> + We fight for vengeance, for love of country,<br> + And +faith in God!<br> +</p> + +<p>"BELIEVE and conquer, fear not for Russia,<br> + Awful the blow the cross-bearer strikes,<br> + Th'arkan <a name="fnr2"></a> <a href="#fn2" class="fnsuper">1</a> +is dreadful, the sword unsparing,<br> + Sharp +are our pikes.<br> +</p> + +<p>"Vain are Napoleon's skill, strength, and cunning,<br> + Nor do his hosts fill us with despair,<br> + For Michael <a name="fnr3"></a> <a href="#fn3" class= +"fnsuper">2</a> leads us, and Mary's <a name="fnr4"></a> <a href= +"#fn4" class="fnsuper">3</a> image<br> + With +us we bear.<br> +</p> + +<p>"To horse, brothers, haste, the foe approaches,<br> + Holy faith guides us, in God we trust,<br> + Quick, true believers, rush to the onset,<br> + God +aids the just!<br> +</p> + +<p>"Sternly rush on, friends, crush the vile Frenchman,<br> + Firm be as mountains when tempests blow,<br> + Oh! into Russia grant not the foul one<br> + +Further to go."<br> +</p> + +<p>Don, broad and mighty, poured forth her children,<br> + The world was amazed, pale with affright,<br> + Napoleon abandoned his fame, and sought<br> + +Safety in flight.<br> +</p> + +<p>On all sides alike pikes gleam around us,<br> + Through air hiss arrows, cannons bright flash,<br> + Bullets, like bees, in swarms fly terrific,<br> + +Mingling swords clash.<br> +</p> + +<p>Not half a million of fierce invaders<br> + Can meet the rage of Russia's attacks;<br> + Not more than they the timid deer shrinks at<br> + Sight +of Cossacks.<br> +</p> + +<p>O'er blood-drenched plains their red standards scattered,<br> + Their arms abandoned, spoils left behind:<br> + Death they now flee from, to loss of honour<br> + +Basely resigned.<br> +</p> + +<p>Vainly they shun it, fruitless their cunning,<br> + Jove's bird strikes down the blood-thirsty crow,<br> + The fame and bones of Frenchmen in Russia<br> + Alike +lie low.<br> +</p> + +<p>Thus th' ambitious usurper is vanquished,<br> + Thus his legions destroyed as they flee,<br> + Thus white-stoned Moscow, the first throned city,<br> + Once +more set free.<br> +</p> + +<p>To God, all potent, let thanks be rendered,<br> + Honoured our TSAR'S and each chieftain's name,<br> + To th'Empire safety, to Don's brave offspring<br> + +Laurels and fame!<br> +</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="fn2"></a> <a href="#fnr2">[1]</a> +Lasso.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="fn3"></a> <a href="#fnr3">[2]</a> +Kutuzoff.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="fn4"></a> <a href="#fnr4">[3]</a> The +Virgin.</p> + +<h3>SOLITUDE.<br> +<br> +BY MERZLIAKOFF.</h3> + +<p>Upon a hill, which rears itself midst plains extending wide,<br> + Fair flourishes a lofty OAK in beauty's blooming pride;<br> + This lofty oak in solitude its branches wide expands,<br> + All lonesome on the cheerless height like sentinel it stands.<br> + Whom can it lend its friendly shade, should Sol with fervour +glow?<br> + And who can shelter <em>it</em> from harm, should tempests rudely +blow?<br> + No bushes green, entwining close, here deck the neighbouring +ground,<br> + No tufted pines beside it grow, no osiers thrive around.<br> + Sad even to trees their cheerless fate in solitude if grown,<br> + And bitter, bitter is the lot for youth to live alone!<br> + Though gold and silver much is his, how vain the selfish +pride!<br> + Though crowned with glory's laurelled wreath, with whom that crown +divide?<br> + When I with an acquaintance meet he scarce a bow affords,<br> + And beauties, half saluting me, but grant some transient +words.<br> + On some I look myself with dread, whilst others from me fly,<br> + But sadder still the uncherished soul when Fate's dark hour draws +nigh;<br> + Oh! where my aching heart relieve when griefs assail me sore?<br> + My friend, who sleeps in the cold earth, comes to my aid no +more!<br> + No relatives, alas! of mine in this strange clime appear,<br> + No wife imparts love's fond caress, sweet smile, or pitying +tear;<br> + No father feels joy's thrilling throb, as he our transport +sees;<br> + No gay and sportive little ones come clambering on my knees;--<br> + Take back all honours, wealth, and fame, the heart they cannot +move,<br> + And give instead the smiles of friends, the tender look of +love!<br> +</p> + +<h3>TO MY ROSE.</h3> + +<p>Bright queen of flowers, O! Rose, gay blooming,<br> + How lovely are thy charms to me!<br> + Narcissus proud, pink unassuming,<br> + In beauty vainly vie with thee;<br> + When thou midst Flora's circle shinest,<br> + Each seems thy slave confessed to sigh,<br> + And thou, O! loveliest flower, divinest,<br> + Allur'st alone the passer's eye.<br> +</p> + +<p>To change thy fate the thought has struck me,<br> + Sweet Rose, in beauty, ah! how blest,<br> + For fair Eliza I will pluck thee,<br> + And thou shalt deck her virgin breast:--<br> + Yet, there thy beauties vainly shining,<br> + No more predominance will claim,<br> + To lilies, all thy pride resigning,<br> + Thou'lt yield without dispute thy fame.<br> +</p> + +<h3>TO CUPID.</h3> + +<p>Cupid, one arrow kindly spare,<br> + 'Twill yield me transport beyond measure,<br> + I'll not be mean, by heaven I swear,<br> + With Mary I'll divide the treasure.<br> +</p> + +<p>Thou wilt not?--Tyrant, now I see<br> + Thou lovest with grief my soul to harrow;<br> + To her thou'st given thy quiver--for me<br> + Thou hast not left a single arrow!<br> +</p> + +<h3>EVENING MEDITATIONS.</h3> + +<p>Nature in silence sank, and deep repose,<br> + Behind the mountain, Sol had ceased to glare,<br> + Timid the moon with modest lustre rose,<br> + Willing as though my misery to share.<br> + The past was quick presented to my mind,<br> + A gentle languor calmed each throbbing vein,<br> + My poor heart trembled as the leaves from wind,<br> + My melting soul owned melancholy's reign.<br> + Plain did each action of my life appear,<br> + Each feeling bade some fellow feeling start,<br> + On my parched bosom fell the flowing tear,<br> + And cooled the burning anguish of my heart.<br> + Moments of bliss, I cried, ah! whither flown?<br> + When Friendship breathed to me her soothing sighs,<br> + Twice have the fields with golden harvests shone,<br> + And still her blest return stern Fate denies!<br> + Cynthia, thou seest me lone my course pursue,<br> + Hopeless here roving, grief my only guide,<br> + Evenings long past thou call'st to Fancy's view,<br> + Forcing the tear down my pale cheek to glide.<br> + Friendless, of love bereft, what now my joy?<br> + Void are my heart and soul, a prey to pain,<br> + To love, to be beloved, can never cloy,<br> + But all on earth besides, alas! is vain!<br> +</p> + +<h3>THE LITTLE DOVE.<br> +<br> +BY DMETRIEFF.</h3> + +<p>The little dove, with heart of sadness,<br> + In silent pain sighs night and day,<br> + What now can wake that heart to gladness?<br> + His mate beloved is far away.<br> +</p> + +<p>He coos no more with soft caresses,<br> + No more is millet sought by him,<br> + The dove his lonesome state distresses,<br> + And tears his swimming eyeballs dim.<br> +</p> + +<p>From twig to twig now skips the lover,<br> + Filling the grove with accents kind,<br> + On all sides roams the harmless rover,<br> + Hoping his little friend to find.<br> +</p> + +<p>Ah! vain that hope his grief is tasting,<br> + Fate seems to scorn his faithful love,<br> + And imperceptibly is wasting,<br> + Wasting away, the little dove!<br> +</p> + +<p>At length upon the grass he threw him,<br> + Hid in his wing his beak and wept,<br> + There ceased his sorrows to pursue him,<br> + The little dove for ever slept.<br> +</p> + +<p>His mate, now sad abroad and grieving,<br> + Flies from a distance home again,<br> + Sits by her friend, with bosom heaving,<br> + And bids him wake with sorrowing pain.<br> +</p> + +<p>She sighs, she weeps, her spirits languish,<br> + Around and round the spot she goes,<br> + Ah! charming Chloe's lost in anguish,<br> + Her friend wakes not from his repose!<br> +</p> + +<h3>LAURA'S PRAYER.</h3> + +<p>As the harp's soft sighings in the silent valley,<br> + To high heaven reaching, lifts thy pious prayer,<br> + Laura, be tranquil! again with health shall nourish<br> + Thy +loved companion.<br> +</p> + +<p>O! ye gods, behold fair Laura sunk in anguish,<br> + Kneeling, O! behold her on the grassy hill,<br> + Mild evening's sportive zephyrs gently embracing<br> + Her +golden ringlets.<br> +</p> + +<p>Glist'ning with tears, her sad eyes to you she raises,<br> + Her fair bosom heaving like the swelling wave,<br> + Whilst in the solemn grove echo, clothed in darkness,<br> + +Repeats her accents.<br> +</p> + +<p>"O! gods, my friend beloved give again health's blessings,<br> + Faded are her cheeks now, dull her once bright eye,<br> + In her heart no pleasure,--killed by cruel sickness,<br> + As by +heat flowers.<br> +</p> + +<p>"But if your hard laws should bid her quit existence,<br> + Grant then my sad prayer, with her let me too die,"--<br> + Laura, be tranquil! thy friend thou'lt see reviving<br> + Like +spring's sweet roses.<br> +</p> + +<h3>THE STORM.<br> +<br> +BY DERJAVIN.</h3> + +<p>As my bark in restless ocean<br> + Mounts its rough and foaming hills,<br> + Whilst its waves in dark commotion<br> + Pass me, hope my bosom fills.<br> +</p> + +<p>Who, when warring clouds are gleaming,<br> + Quenches the destructive spark?<br> + Say what hand, where safety's beaming,<br> + Guides through rocks my little bark?<br> +</p> + +<p>Thou Creator! all o'erseeing,<br> + In this scene preserv'st me dread,<br> + Thou, without whose word decreeing<br> + Not a hair falls from my head.<br> +</p> + +<p>Thou in life hast doubly blest me,<br> + All my soul to thee's revealed,<br> + Thou amongst the great hast placed me,<br> + Be midst them my guide and shield!<br> +</p> + +<h3>TO MY HEART.</h3> + +<p>Why, poor heart, so ceaseless languish?<br> + Why with such distresses smart?<br> + Nought alleviates thy anguish,<br> + What afflicts thee so, poor heart?<br> +</p> + +<p>Heart, I comprehend not wrongly,<br> + Thou a captive art confest,<br> + Near Eliza thou beat'st strongly<br> + As thou'dst leap into her breast.<br> +</p> + +<p>Since 'tis so then, little throbber,<br> + You and I, alas! must part,<br> + I'd not be thy comfort's robber;<br> + To her I'll resign thee, heart.<br> +</p> + +<p>Yet the maid in compensation<br> + Must her own bestow on me,<br> + And with such remuneration<br> + Never shall I grieve for thee.<br> +</p> + +<p>But should she, thy sorrows spurning,<br> + This exchange, poor heart, deny,<br> + Then I'll bear thee, heart, though mourning,<br> + From her far and hasty fly.<br> +</p> + +<p>But, alas! no pain assuaging,<br> + That would but increase thy grief;<br> + If kind Death still not its raging,<br> + Granting thee a kind relief.<br> +</p> + +<h3>TIME.</h3> + +<p>O! Time, as thou on rapid wings<br> + Encirclest earth's extensive ball,<br> + Fatal thy flight to worldly things,<br> + Thy darts cut down and ruin all.<br> +</p> + +<p>A cloud from us thy form conceals;<br> + Enwrapt its gloomy folds among,<br> + Thou mov'st eternity's vast wheels,<br> + And with them movest us along.<br> +</p> + +<p>The swift-winged days thou urgest on,<br> + With them life's sand beholdest pass,<br> + And when our transient hours are gone,<br> + Thou smilest at their exhausted glass.<br> +</p> + +<p>Against Time's look, when he but frowns,<br> + All strength, and skill, and power, are vain;<br> + He withers laurels, wreaths, and crowns,<br> + And breaks the matrimonial chain.<br> +</p> + +<p>As Time moves onward, far and wide<br> + His restless scythe mows all away,<br> + All feels his breath, on every side<br> + All sinks, resistless, to decay.<br> +</p> + +<p>To youth's gay bloom and beauty's charms<br> + Mercy alike stern Time denies,<br> + Like vernal flowers o'erwhelmed by storms,<br> + Whate'er he looks at droops and dies.<br> +</p> + +<p>Huge piles from earth his mighty hand<br> + Sweeps to oblivion's empire dread,<br> + What villages, what cities grand,<br> + What kingdoms sink beneath his tread!<br> +</p> + +<p>Heroes in vain, his gauntlet cast,<br> + Oppose his stern and ruthless sway,<br> + Nor armies brave, nor mountains vast,<br> + Can thwart the devastator's way.<br> +</p> + +<p>Thought strives, but fruitless, to pursue<br> + The traces of Time's rapid flight,<br> + Scarce Fancy gains one transient view,<br> + He disappears and sinks in night.<br> +</p> + +<p>Think, thou whom folly's dazzling glare<br> + Of worldly vanities may blind,<br> + Time frowns and all will disappear,<br> + Nor gold a vestige leave behind.<br> +</p> + +<p>And thou whom fierce distresses sting,<br> + Thou by calamities low bowed,<br> + Weep not, for Time the day will bring<br> + That ranks the humble with the proud.<br> +</p> + +<p>But, Time, thy course of ruin stay,<br> + The lyre's sweet tones one moment hear,<br> + By thee o'er earth is spread dismay,<br> + Grief's sigh called forth, and pity's tear.<br> +</p> + +<p>Yet, Time, thy speed the dread decree<br> + Of retribution on thee brings,<br> + Eternity will swallow thee,<br> + Thy motion stop, and clip thy wings!<br> +</p> + +<h3>SONG.</h3> + +<p>Sweetly came the morning light,<br> + When fair Mary blest my sight,<br> + In her presence pleasures throng,<br> + Louder swelled the birds their song,<br> + +Pleasanter the day became.<br> +</p> + +<p>Not so radiant are Sol's rays,<br> + When on darkest clouds they blaze,<br> + As her look, so free from guile,<br> + As fair Mary's tender smile,<br> + As +the smile of my beloved.<br> +</p> + +<p>Not of dew the gems divine<br> + Shine as Mary's beauties shine,<br> + Not with hers the rose's dye<br> + On the fairest cheek can vie,<br> + None have +beauty like to hers.<br> +</p> + +<p>Mary's kiss as honey sweet,<br> + Pure as streamlet clear and fleet,<br> + Love inhabits her soft eyes,<br> + Floats in all her soothing sighs,<br> + Nought on earth so sweet +as she.<br> +</p> + +<p>Let us, Mary, now enjoy<br> + Nature's charms without alloy,<br> + Verdant lawn, and smiling grove;--<br> + Brooks that babble but of love<br> + Will +beside us softer flow.<br> +</p> + +<p>Let us seek the pleasant shade,<br> + Sit in bowers by us arrayed<br> + With gay flow'rets, where are heard<br> + Songs of many a pleasant bird,<br> + Which with rapture we +will join.<br> +</p> + +<p>In that sweet and lovely spot,<br> + All the cares of earth forgot,<br> + Thou, the comfort of my sight,<br> + Thou, my glory, my delight,<br> + Shalt my +soul to peace allure.<br> +</p> + +<h3>SONG.</h3> + +<p>The shades of spring's delicious even<br> + Invited all to soft repose,<br> + I only sighed to listening heaven<br> + In the still grove my bosom's woes.<br> +</p> + +<p>My heart's distress had Fate completed,<br> + Snatched from my sight my best beloved,<br> + And echo's busy voice repeated<br> + Sweet Mary's name where'er I roved.<br> +</p> + +<p>Without her sad the days and dreary,<br> + How cheerless drag life's moments on,<br> + Of pleasure's tumults sick and weary,<br> + All blissful thoughts for ever flown!<br> +</p> + +<p>But still to me more keen the anguish,<br> + With secret grief my heart must swell,<br> + That her for whom I ceaseless languish<br> + I dare not of my passion tell.<br> +</p> + +<p>No hope my cruel pain disarming,<br> + I live a prey to ceaseless wo,<br> + And Mary, sweet, and fair, and charming,<br> + How much I love her does not know.<br> +</p> + +<p>How shall I calm this bosom's raging?<br> + O! how alleviate its smart?<br> + Her tender look, all grief assuaging,<br> + Alone can cure my wounded heart.<br> +</p> + +<h3>SONG.</h3> + +<p>How blest am I thy charms enfolding,<br> + Cheerful thy smile as May's fair light,<br> + As Paradise thine eyes are bright,<br> + I all forget when thee beholding,--<br> + Thou canst not think how sweet thou art.<br> + Thy absence fills my soul with anguish,<br> + Beloved one! hopeless of relief<br> + I count the mournful hours in grief,<br> + My heart for thee doth ceaseless languish,--<br> + Thou canst not think how sweet thou art!<br> +</p> + +<h3>TO MARY.</h3> + +<p>Vainly, Mary, dost thou pray me<br> + Heedless of thy charms to live,<br> + If thou'dst have me, fair, obey thee,<br> + Thou another heart must give.<br> +</p> + +<p>One with stern indifference steeling,<br> + That could know thee and be free,<br> + One that all thy virtues feeling,<br> + Could exist removed from thee.<br> +</p> + +<p>That in which thine image blooming,<br> + Holds an empire all its own,<br> + Which, though thou to grief art dooming,<br> + Lives, fair maid, in thee alone;<br> +</p> + +<p>Every thought to thee addresses,<br> + Filled by thee with visions bright,<br> + Even 'midst sorrows, pains, distresses,<br> + Thou'rt its comfort, hope, delight.<br> +</p> + +<p>I be faithless! love avowing,<br> + To thee first I bent my knee,<br> + Even with soul thy looks endowing,<br> + First I knew <em>it</em> knowing <em>thee</em>.<br> +</p> + +<p>Yes, my soul to thee returning,<br> + Thine own gift do I restore,<br> + Thou the offering proudly spurning,<br> + I its charm can know no more.<br> +</p> + +<p>Do not bid me, hope resigning,<br> + My fond vows of love to cease,<br> + How can I, in silence pining,<br> + Cruel fair one, mar thy peace?<br> +</p> + +<h3>N O T E.</h3> + +<p>Of the following translation of Derjavin's Ode to God, +universally esteemed as one of the sublimest effusions of the +Russian Muse, I beg leave to say that my aim has been to render it +into English as literally as the genius of our language would +admit, without adding or suppressing a single thought, or +amplifying a single expression, to accomplish which metrically +would of course be impossible.</p> + +<p>If I have succeeded, my readers will be better able to judge +whether this Ode, after having been translated into the Japanese +language, merited the great honour of being suspended, embroidered +with gold, in the temple of Jeddo, than they can be by a perusal of +the highly poetic effort of Dr. Bowring. For, whilst he has adhered +to the structure of versification adopted in the original, and in +some parts has given its sense with remarkable accuracy, in others +he has been less fortunate; and in venturing to change the +Trinitarian faith of Derjavin to suit his own notions of the unity +of the Supreme Being, he has taken a liberty with his author which +cannot but be deemed unwarrantable.</p> + +<p>THE TRANSLATOR.</p> + +<h3>TO GOD.<br> +<br> +BY DERJAVIN.</h3> + +<p>O! Thou, infinite in space,<br> + Existing in the motion of matter,<br> + Eternal amidst the mutations of time,<br> + Without person, in three persons the Divinity!<br> + The single and omnipresent spirit,<br> + To whom there is neither place nor cause,<br> + Whom none could ever comprehend,<br> + Who fillest all things with thyself,<br> + Embracest, animatest, and preservest them,<br> + Thou whom we denominate God!<br> +</p> + +<p>Although a sublime mind might be able<br> + To measure the depths of ocean,<br> + To count the sands, the rays of the planets,<br> + To thee there is neither number nor measure!<br> + Enlightened spirits, although<br> + Proceeding from thy light,<br> + Cannot penetrate thy judgments;<br> + Thought scarce dare lift itself to thee;<br> + It is lost in thy greatness,<br> + Like the past moment in eternity.<br> +</p> + +<p>Thou calledst chaos into existence,<br> + Before time, from the abyss of eternity,<br> + And eternity, existing prior to all ages,<br> + Thou foundedst within thyself.<br> + Constituting thyself of thyself,<br> + By means of thyself shining from thyself,<br> + Thou art the light from which light first flowed;<br> + Creating all things by a single word,<br> + Extending thyself throughout the new creation,<br> + Thou wast, thou art, thou shalt be for ever!<br> +</p> + +<p>Thou unitest within thyself the chain of beings,<br> + Upholdest and animatest it,<br> + Thou connectest the end with the beginning,<br> + And through death bestowest life.<br> + As sparks shoot forth and scatter themselves,<br> + Thus suns are born of thee:<br> + As, in a cold and clear winter's day,<br> + Particles of frost scintillate,<br> + Whirl about, reel, and glisten, <a name="fnr5"></a> <a href="#fn5" +class="fnsuper">1</a><br> + Even so do the stars in the abysses beneath thee!<br> +</p> + +<p>Millions of lighted torches<br> + Fly throughout infinite space,<br> + They execute thy laws,<br> + And shed life-creating rays.<br> + But these fiery luminaries,<br> + Or shining masses of crystal,<br> + Or crowds of boiling golden waves,<br> + Or blazing ether,<br> + Or all the dazzling worlds united--<br> + Compared to thee are like night compared to day.<br> +</p> + +<p>Like a drop of water cast into the ocean<br> + Is this whole firmament compared to thee.<br> + But what is the universe which I behold,<br> + And who am I, in thy presence?<br> + Were I to add to the millions of worlds<br> + Existing in the ocean of air,<br> + A hundred fold as many other worlds--and then<br> + Dare to compare them to thee,<br> + They would scarcely appear an atom,<br> + And I compared to thee--nothing!<br> +</p> + +<p>Nothing! yet thou shinest in me<br> + Through thy great goodness:<br> + In me thou imagest thyself,<br> + As the sun is reflected in a small drop of water.<br> + Nothing! yet I am sensible of my existence,<br> + By an indescribable longing I ascend<br> + Steadfastly to a higher region:<br> + My soul hopes to be even as thou,<br> + It inquires, meditates, reasons;<br> + I am, and doubtless thou must be.<br> +</p> + +<p>THOU ART! the order of nature proclaims it;<br> + My heart declares it to be so,<br> + My mind assures me of it.<br> + Thou art! and I am not, therefore, nothing!<br> + I am a particle of the whole universe,<br> + Placed, as I think, in that important<br> + Middle point of being,<br> + Where thou finishedst mortal creatures,<br> + Where thou began'st heavenly spirits,<br> + And the chain of all beings unitedst by me.<br> +</p> + +<p>I am the bond of worlds existing everywhere;<br> + I am the extreme grade of matter;<br> + I am the centre of living things,<br> + The commencing trait of the Divinity;<br> + My body will resolve itself into ashes,<br> + My mind commands the thunder.<br> + I am a king, a slave, a worm, a god!<br> + But, being thus wonderful,<br> + From whence have I proceeded? This is unknown.<br> + But I could not have existed of myself!<br> +</p> + +<p>I am thy work, Creator!<br> + I am the creature of thy supreme wisdom,<br> + Fountain of life, Giver of blessings,<br> + Soul and monarch of my soul!<br> + It was necessary to thy justice<br> + That my immortal being<br> + Should traverse the abyss of death,<br> + That my spirit should be veiled in perishable matter,<br> + And that through death I should return,<br> + Father! to thy immortality!<br> +</p> + +<p>Inexplicable, incomprehensible Being!<br> + I know that the imaginings<br> + Of my soul are unable<br> + Even to sketch thy shadow!<br> + But, if it be our duty to praise thee,<br> + Then it is impossible for weak mortals<br> + Otherwise to render thee homage<br> + Than, simply, to lift their hearts to thee,<br> + To give way to boundless joy,<br> + And shed tears of gratitude!<br> +</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="fn5"></a> <a href="#fnr5">[1]</a> The +full beauty of this metaphor can only be felt by those who have +witnessed, in a high northern latitude during intensely cold and +clear weather, the state of the atmosphere which the poet +describes.</p> + +<p> </p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bakchesarian Fountain and Other +Poems, by Alexander Pushkin and Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN, OTHER POEMS *** + +***** This file should be named 8192-h.htm or 8192-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/1/9/8192/ + +Produced by David Starner, Robert Connal and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Bakchesarian Fountain and Other Poems + +Author: Alexander Pushkin + Various + +Translator: William D. Lewis + +Posting Date: October 14, 2012 [EBook #8192] +Release Date: May, 2005 +First Posted: June 30, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN, OTHER POEMS *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Robert Connal and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + + +THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN. + +BY + +ALEXANDER POOSHKEEN. + + + +AND OTHER POEMS, BY VARIOUS AUTHORS, + + + +TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL RUSSIAN, + +BY + +WILLIAM D. LEWIS. + + + + + + +TO + +MY RUSSIAN FRIENDS, + +THE FOLLOWING EFFORT TO RENDER INTO THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE A FAVOURITE POEM +OF ONE OF THEIR MOST ADMIRED BARDS, AND SOME SHORTER PRODUCTIONS OF OTHER +RUSSIAN POETS, + +IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, + +AS A SMALL TESTIMONIAL OF GRATITUDE FOR THE MANY KINDNESSES OF WHICH I WAS +THE OBJECT IN THEIR MOST HOSPITABLE COUNTRY, IN EARLY LIFE. + +THE TRANSLATOR. + +Philadelphia, July, 1849. + + + + + + + THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN. + + A TALE OF THE TAURIDE. + + + Mute sat Giray, with downcast eye, + As though some spell in sorrow bound him, + His slavish courtiers thronging nigh, + In sad expectance stood around him. + The lips of all had silence sealed, + Whilst, bent on him, each look observant, + Saw grief's deep trace and passion fervent + Upon his gloomy brow revealed. + But the proud Khan his dark eye raising, + And on the courtiers fiercely gazing, + Gave signal to them to begone! + The chief, unwitnessed and alone, + Now yields him to his bosom's smart, + Deeper upon his brow severe + Is traced the anguish of his heart; + As full fraught clouds on mirrors clear + Reflected terrible appear! + + What fills that haughty soul with pain? + What thoughts such madd'ning tumults cause? + With Russia plots he war again? + Would he to Poland dictate laws? + Say, is the sword of vengeance glancing? + Does bold revolt claim nature's right? + Do realms oppressed alarm excite? + Or sabres of fierce foes advancing? + Ah no! no more his proud steed prancing + Beneath him guides the Khan to war,-- + Such thoughts his mind has banished far. + + Has treason scaled the harem's wall, + Whose height might treason's self appal, + And slavery's daughter fled his power, + To yield her to the daring Giaour? + + No! pining in his harem sadly, + No wife of his would act so madly; + To wish or think they scarcely dare; + By wretches, cold and heartless, guarded, + Hope from each breast so long discarded; + Treason could never enter there. + Their beauties unto none revealed, + They bloom within the harem's towers, + As in a hot-house bloom the flowers + Which erst perfumed Arabia's field. + To them the days in sameness dreary, + And months and years pass slow away, + In solitude, of life grown weary, + Well pleased they see their charms decay. + Each day, alas! the past resembling, + Time loiters through their halls and bowers; + In idleness, and fear, and trembling, + The captives pass their joyless hours. + The youngest seek, indeed, reprieve + Their hearts in striving to deceive + Into oblivion of distress, + By vain amusements, gorgeous dress, + Or by the noise of living streams, + In soft translucency meand'ring, + To lose their thoughts in fancy's dreams, + Through shady groves together wand'ring. + But the vile eunuch too is there, + In his base duty ever zealous, + Escape is hopeless to the fair + From ear so keen and eye so jealous. + He ruled the harem, order reigned + Eternal there; the trusted treasure + He watched with loyalty unfeigned, + His only law his chieftain's pleasure, + Which as the Koran he maintained. + His soul love's gentle flame derides, + And like a statue he abides + Hatred, contempt, reproaches, jests, + Nor prayers relax his temper rigid, + Nor timid sighs from tender breasts, + To all alike the wretch is frigid. + He knows how woman's sighs can melt, + Freeman and bondman he had felt + Her art in days when he was younger; + Her silent tear, her suppliant look, + Which once his heart confiding shook, + Now move not,--he believes no longer! + + When, to relieve the noontide heat, + The captives go their limbs to lave, + And in sequestered, cool retreat + Yield all their beauties to the wave, + No stranger eye their charms may greet, + But their strict guard is ever nigh, + Viewing with unimpassioned eye + These beauteous daughters of delight; + He constant, even in gloom of night, + Through the still harem cautious stealing, + Silent, o'er carpet-covered floors, + And gliding through half-opened doors, + From couch to couch his pathway feeling, + With envious and unwearied care + Watching the unsuspecting fair; + And whilst in sleep unguarded lying, + Their slightest movement, breathing, sighing, + He catches with devouring ear. + O! curst that moment inauspicious + Should some loved name in dreams be sighed, + Or youth her unpermitted wishes + To friendship venture to confide. + + * * * * * + + What pang is Giray's bosom tearing? + Extinguished is his loved _chubouk_,[1] + Whilst or to move or breathe scarce daring, + The eunuch watches every look; + Quick as the chief, approaching near him, + Beckons, the door is open thrown, + And Giray wanders through his harem + Where joy to him no more is known. + Near to a fountain's lucid waters + Captivity's unhappy daughters + The Khan await, in fair array, + Around on silken carpets crowded, + Viewing, beneath a heaven unclouded, + With childish joy the fishes play + And o'er the marble cleave their way, + Whose golden scales are brightly glancing, + And on the mimic billows dancing. + Now female slaves in rich attire + Serve sherbet to the beauteous fair, + Whilst plaintive strains from viewless choir + Float sudden on the ambient air. + + TARTAR SONG. + + I. + + Heaven visits man with days of sadness, + Embitters oft his nights with tears; + Blest is the Fakir who with gladness + Views Mecca in declining years. + + II. + + Blest he who sees pale Death await him + On Danube's ever glorious shore; + The girls of Paradise shall greet him, + And sorrows ne'er afflict him more. + + III. + + But he more blest, O beauteous Zarem! + Who quits the world and all its woes, + To clasp thy charms within the harem, + Thou lovelier than the unplucked rose! + + + They sing, but-where, alas! is Zarem, + Love's star, the glory of the harem? + Pallid and sad no praise she hears, + Deaf to all sounds of joy her ears, + Downcast with grief, her youthful form + Yields like the palm tree to the storm, + Fair Zarem's dreams of bliss are o'er, + Her loved Giray loves her no more! + + He leaves thee! yet whose charms divine + Can equal, fair Grusinian! thine? + Shading thy brow, thy raven hair + Its lily fairness makes more fair; + Thine eyes of love appear more bright + Than noonday's beam, more dark than night; + Whose voice like thine can breathe of blisses, + Filling the heart with soft desire? + Like thine, ah! whose inflaming kisses + Can kindle passion's wildest fire? + + Who that has felt thy twining arms + Could quit them for another's charms? + Yet cold, and passionless, and cruel, + Giray can thy vast love despise, + Passing the lonesome night in sighs + Heaved for another; fiercer fuel + Burns in his heart since the fair Pole + Is placed within the chief's control. + + The young Maria recent war + Had borne in conquest from afar; + Not long her love-enkindling eyes + Had gazed upon these foreign skies; + Her aged father's boast and pride, + She bloomed in beauty by his side; + Each wish was granted ere expressed. + She to his heart the object dearest, + His sole desire to see her blessed; + As when the skies from clouds are clearest, + Still from her youthful heart to chase + Her childish sorrows his endeavour, + Hoping in after life that never + Her woman's duties might efface + Remembrance of her earlier hours, + But oft that fancy would retrace + Life's blissful spring-time decked in flowers. + Her form a thousand charms unfolded, + Her face by beauty's self was moulded, + Her dark blue eyes were full of fire,-- + All nature's stores on her were lavished; + The magic harp with soft desire, + When touched by her, the senses ravished. + Warriors and knights had sought in vain + Maria's virgin heart to move, + And many a youth in secret pain + Pined for her in despairing love. + But love she knew not, in her breast + Tranquil it had not yet intruded, + Her days in mirth, her nights in rest, + In her paternal halls secluded, + Passed heedless, peace her bosom's guest. + + That time is past! The Tartar's force + Rushed like a torrent o'er her nation,-- + Rages less fierce the conflagration + Devouring harvests in its course,-- + Poland it swept with devastation, + Involving all in equal fate, + The villages, once mirthful, vanished, + From their red ruins joy was banished, + The gorgeous palace desolate! + Maria is the victor's prize;-- + Within the palace chapel laid, + Slumb'ring among th'illustrious dead, + In recent tomb her father lies; + His ancestors repose around, + Long freed from life and its alarms; + With coronets and princely arms + Bedecked their monuments abound! + A base successor now holds sway,-- + Maria's natal halls his hand + Tyrannic rules, and strikes dismay + And wo throughout the ravaged land. + + Alas! the Princess sorrow's chalice + Is fated to the dregs to drain, + Immured in Bakchesaria's palace + She sighs for liberty in vain; + The Khan observes the maiden's pain, + His heart is at her grief afflicted, + His bosom strange emotions fill, + And least of all Maria's will + Is by the harem's laws restricted. + The hateful guard, of all the dread, + Learns silent to respect and fear her, + His eye ne'er violates her bed, + Nor day nor night he ventures near her; + To her he dares not speak rebuke, + Nor on her cast suspecting look. + Her bath she sought by none attended, + Except her chosen female slave, + The Khan to her such freedom gave; + But rarely he himself offended + By visits, the desponding fair, + Remotely lodged, none else intruded; + It seemed as though some jewel rare, + Something unearthly were secluded, + And careful kept untroubled there. + + Within her chamber thus secure, + By virtue guarded, chaste and pure, + The lamp of faith, incessant burning, + The VIRGIN'S image blest illumed, + The comfort of the spirit mourning + And trust of those to sorrow doomed. + The holy symbol's face reflected + The rays of hope in splendour bright, + And the rapt soul by faith directed + To regions of eternal light. + Maria, near the VIRGIN kneeling, + In silence gave her anguish way, + Unnoticed by the crowd unfeeling, + And whilst the rest, or sad or gay, + Wasted in idleness the day, + The sacred image still concealing, + Before it pouring forth her prayer, + She watched with ever jealous care; + Even as our hearts to error given, + Yet lighted by a spark from heaven, + Howe'er from virtue's paths we swerve, + One holy feeling still preserve. + + * * * * * + + Now night invests with black apparel + Luxurious Tauride's verdant fields, + Whilst her sweet notes from groves of laurel + The plaintive Philomela yields. + But soon night's glorious queen, advancing + Through cloudless skies to the stars' song, + Scatters the hills and dales along, + The lustre of her rays entrancing. + In Bakchesaria's streets roamed free + The Tartars' wives in garb befitting, + They like unprisoned shades were flitting + From house to house their friends to see, + And while the evening hours away + In harmless sports or converse gay. + The inmates of the harem slept;-- + Still was the palace, night impending + O'er all her silent empire kept; + The eunuch guard, no more offending + The fair ones by his presence, now + Slumbered, but fear his soul attending + Troubled his rest and knit his brow; + Suspicion kept his fancy waking, + And on his mind incessant preyed, + The air the slightest murmur breaking + Assailed his ear with sounds of dread. + Now, by some noise deceitful cheated, + Starts from his sleep the timid slave, + Listens to hear the noise repeated, + But all is silent as the grave, + Save where the fountains softly sounding + Break from their marble prisons free, + Or night's sweet birds the scene surrounding + Pour forth their notes of melody: + Long does he hearken to the strain, + Then sinks fatigued in sleep again. + + Luxurious East! how soft thy nights, + What magic through the soul they pour! + How fruitful they of fond delights + To those who Mahomet adore! + What splendour in each house is found, + Each garden seems enchanted ground; + Within the harem's precincts quiet + Beneath fair Luna's placid ray, + When angry feelings cease to riot + There love inspires with softer sway! + + * * * * + + The women sleep;--but one is there + Who sleeps not; goaded by despair + Her couch she quits with dread intent, + On awful errand is she bent; + Breathless she through the door swift flying + Passes unseen; her timid feet + Scarce touch the floor, she glides so fleet. + In doubtful slumber restless lying + The eunuch thwarts the fair one's path, + Ah! who can speak his bosom's wrath? + False is the quiet sleep would throw + Around that gray and care-worn brow; + She like a spirit vanished by + Viewless, unheard as her own sigh! + + * * * * + + The door she reaches, trembling opes, + Enters, and looks around with awe, + What sorrows, anguish, terrors, hopes, + Rushed through her heart at what she saw! + The image of the sacred maid, + The Christian's matron, reigning there, + And cross attracted first the fair, + By the dim lamp-light scarce displayed! + Oh! Grusinka, of earlier days + The vision burst upon thy soul, + The tongue long silent uttered praise, + The heart throbs high, but sin's control + Cannot escape, 'tis passion, passion sways! + + The Princess in a maid's repose + Slumbered, her cheek, tinged like the rose, + By feverish thought, in beauty blooms, + And the fresh tear that stains her face + A smile of tenderness illumes. + Thus cheers the moon fair Flora's race, + When by the rain opprest they lie + The charm and grief of every eye! + It seemed as though an angel slept + From heaven descended, who, distressed, + Vented the feelings of his breast, + And for the harem's inmates wept! + Alas! poor Zarem, wretched fair, + By anguish urged to mere despair, + On bended knee, in tone subdued + And melting strain, for pity sued. + + "Oh! spurn not such a suppliant's prayer!" + Her tones so sad, her sighs so deep, + Startled the Princess in her sleep; + Wond'ring, she views with dread before her + The stranger beauty, frighted hears + For mercy her soft voice implore her, + Raises her up with trembling hand, + And makes of her the quick demand, + "Who speaks? in night's still hour alone, + Wherefore art here?" "A wretched one, + To thee I come," the fair replied, + "A suitor not to be denied; + Hope, hope alone my soul sustains; + Long have I happiness enjoyed, + And lived from sorrow free and care, + But now, alas! a prey to pains + And terrors, Princess hear my prayer, + Oh! listen, or I am destroyed! + + Not here beheld I first the light, + Far hence my native land, but yet + Alas! I never can forget + Objects once precious to my sight; + Well I remember towering mountains, + Snow-ridged, replete with boiling fountains, + Woods pervious scarce to wolf or deer, + Nor faith, nor manners such as here; + But, by what cruel fate o'ercome, + How I was snatched, or when, from home + I know not,--well the heaving ocean + Do I remember, and its roar, + But, ah! my heart such wild commotion + As shakes it now ne'er felt before. + I in the harem's quiet bloomed, + Tranquil myself, waiting, alas! + With willing heart what love had doomed; + Its secret wishes came to pass: + Giray his peaceful harem sought, + For feats of war no longer burned, + Nor, pleased, upon its horrors thought, + To these fair scenes again returned. + + "Before the Khan with bosoms beating + We stood, timid my eyes I raised, + When suddenly our glances meeting, + I drank in rapture as I gazed; + He called me to him,--from that hour + We lived in bliss beyond the power + Of evil thought or wicked word, + The tongue of calumny unheard, + Suspicion, doubt, or jealous fear, + Of weariness alike unknown, + Princess, thou comest a captive here, + And all my joys are overthrown, + Giray with sinful passion burns, + His soul possessed of thee alone, + My tears and sighs the traitor spurns; + No more his former thoughts, nor feeling + For me now cherishes Giray, + Scarce his disgust, alas! concealing, + He from my presence hastes away. + Princess, I know the fault not thine + That Giray loves thee, oh! then hear + A suppliant wretch, nor spurn her prayer! + + Throughout the harem none but thou + Could rival beauties such as mine + Nor make him violate his vow; + Yet, Princess! in thy bosom cold + The heart to mine left thus forlorn, + The love I feel cannot be told, + For passion, Princess, was I born. + Yield me Giray then; with these tresses + Oft have his wandering fingers played, + My lips still glow with his caresses, + Snatched as he sighed, and swore, and prayed, + Oaths broken now so often plighted! + Hearts mingled once now disunited! + His treason I cannot survive; + Thou seest I weep, I bend my knee, + Ah! if to pity thou'rt alive, + My former love restore to me. + Reply not! thee I do not blame, + Thy beauties have bewitched Giray, + Blinded his heart to love and fame, + Then yield him up to me, I pray, + Or by contempt, repulse, or grief, + Turn from thy love th'ungenerous chief! + Swear by thy _faith_, for what though mine + Conform now to the Koran's laws, + Acknowledged here within the harem, + Princess, my mother's faith was thine, + By that faith swear to give to Zarem + Giray unaltered, as he was! + But listen! the sad prey to scorn + If I must live, Princess, have care, + A dagger still doth Zarem wear,-- + I near the Caucasus was born!" + + She spake, then sudden disappeared, + And left the Princess in dismay, + Who scarce knew what or why she feared; + Such words of passion till that day + She ne'er had heard. Alas! was she + To be the ruthless chieftain's prey? + Vain was all hope his grasp to flee. + Oh! God, that in some dungeon's gloom + Remote, forgotten, she had lain, + Or that it were her blessed doom + To 'scape dishonour, life, and pain! + How would Maria with delight + This world of wretchedness resign; + Vanished of youth her visions bright, + Abandoned she to fates malign! + Sinless she to the world was given, + And so remains, thus pure and fair, + Her soul is called again to heaven, + And angel joys await it there! + + * * * * * + + Days passed away; Maria slept + Peaceful, no cares disturbed her, now,-- + From earth the orphan maid was swept. + But who knew when, or where, or how? + If prey to grief or pain she fell, + If slain or heaven-struck, who can tell? + She sleeps; her loss the chieftain grieves, + And his neglected harem leaves, + Flies from its tranquil precincts far, + And with his Tartars takes the field, + Fierce rushes mid the din of war, + And brave the foe that does not yield, + For mad despair hath nerved his arm, + Though in his heart is grief concealed, + With passion's hopeless transports warm. + His blade he swings aloft in air + And wildly brandishes, then low + It falls, whilst he with pallid stare + Gazes, and tears in torrents flow. + + His harem by the chief deserted, + In foreign lands he warring roved, + Long nor in wish nor thought reverted + To scene once cherished and beloved. + His women to the eunuch's rage + Abandoned, pined and sank in age; + The fair Grusinian now no more + Yielded her soul to passion's power, + Her fate was with Maria's blended, + On the same night their sorrows ended; + Seized by mute guards the hapless fair + Into a deep abyss they threw,-- + If vast her crime, through love's despair, + Her punishment was dreadful too! + + At length th'exhausted Khan returned, + Enough of waste his sword had dealt, + The Russian cot no longer burned, + Nor Caucasus his fury felt. + In token of Maria's loss + A marble fountain he upreared + In spot recluse;--the Christian's cross + Upon the monument appeared, + (Surmounting it a crescent bright, + Emblem of ignorance and night!) + Th'inscription mid the silent waste + Not yet has time's rude hand effaced, + Still do the gurgling waters pour + Their streams dispensing sadness round, + As mothers weep for sons no more, + In never-ending sorrows drowned. + In morn fair maids, (and twilight late,) + Roam where this monument appears, + And pitying poor Maria's fate + Entitle it the FOUNT OF TEARS! + + * * * * * + + My native land abandoned long, + I sought this realm of love and song. + Through Bakchesaria's palace wandered, + Upon its vanished greatness pondered; + All silent now those spacious halls, + And courts deserted, once so gay + With feasters thronged within their walls, + Carousing after battle fray. + Even now each desolated room + And ruined garden luxury breathes, + The fountains play, the roses bloom, + The vine unnoticed twines its wreaths, + Gold glistens, shrubs exhale perfume. + The shattered casements still are there + Within which once, in days gone by, + Their beads of amber chose the fair, + And heaved the unregarded sigh; + The cemetery there I found, + Of conquering khans the last abode, + Columns with marble turbans crowned + Their resting-place the traveller showed, + And seemed to speak fate's stern decree, + "As they are now such all shall be!" + Where now those chiefs? the harem where? + Alas! how sad scene once so fair! + Now breathless silence chains the air! + But not of this my mind was full, + The roses' breath, the fountains flowing, + The sun's last beam its radiance throwing + Around, all served my heart to lull + Into forgetfulness, when lo! + A maiden's shade, fairer than snow, + Across the court swift winged its flight;-- + Whose shade, oh friends! then struck my sight? + Whose beauteous image hovering near + Filled me with wonder and with fear? + Maria's form beheld I then? + Or was it the unhappy Zarem, + Who jealous thither came again + To roam through the deserted harem? + That tender look I cannot flee, + Those charms still earthly still I see! + + * * * * * + + He who the muse and peace adores, + Forgetting glory, love, and gold, + Again thy ever flowery shores + Soon, Salgir! joyful shall behold; + The bard shall wind thy rocky ways + Filled with fond sympathies, shall view + Tauride's bright skies and waves of blue + With greedy and enraptured gaze. + Enchanting region! full of life + Thy hills, thy woods, thy leaping streams, + Ambered and rubied vines, all rife + With pleasure, spot of fairy dreams! + Valleys of verdure, fruits, and flowers, + Cool waterfalls and fragrant bowers! + All serve the traveller's heart to fill + With joy as he in hour of morn + By his accustomed steed is borne + In safety o'er dell, rock, and hill, + Whilst the rich herbage, bent with dews, + Sparkles and rustles on the ground, + As he his venturous path pursues + Where AYOUDAHGA'S crags surround! + +[1] A Turkish pipe. + + + + + + + AMATORY AND OTHER POEMS, + + BY + + VARIOUS RUSSIAN AUTHORS. + + +[Several of the following translations were published anonymously, many +years since, in the "National Gazette," when edited by Robert Walsh, Esq., +and in the "Atlantic Souvenir," and other periodicals.] + + + + + + + AMATORY AND OTHER POEMS. + + + + + + + SONG. + + + I through gay and brilliant places + Long my wayward course had bound, + Oft had gazed on beauteous faces, + But no loved one yet had found. + + Careless, onward did I saunter, + Seeking no beloved to see, + Rather dreading such encounter, + Wishing ever to be free. + + Thus from all temptation fleeing, + Hoped I long unchecked to rove, + 'Till the fair Louisa seeing,-- + Who can see her, and not love? + + Sol, his splendid robes arrayed in, + Just behind the hills was gone, + When one eve I saw the maiden + Tripping o'er the verdant lawn. + + Of a strange, tumultuous feeling, + As I gazed I felt the sway, + And, with brain on fire and reeling, + Homeward quick I bent my way. + + Through my bosom rapid darting, + Love 'twas plain I could not brave, + And with boasted freedom parting, + I became Louisa's slave. + + + + + + + THE HUSBAND'S LAMENT. + + BY P. PELSKY. + + + Parted now, alas! for ever + From the object of my heart, + Thus by cruel fate afflicted, + Grief shall be my only part, + + I, bereft of her blest presence, + Shall my life in anguish spend, + Joy a stranger to my bosom, + Wo with every thought shall blend. + + Double was my meed of pleasure + When in it a share she bore, + Of my pains, though keen and piercing, + Viewing her I thought no more. + + All is past! and I, unhappy, + Here on earth am left alone, + All my transports now are vanished, + Blissful hours! how swiftly flown. + + Vainly friends, with kind compassion, + Me to calm my grief conjure, + Vainly strive my heart to comfort, + It the grave alone can cure. + + Fate one hope allows me only, + Which allays my bosom's pain-- + Death our loving hearts divided, + Death our hearts can join again! + + + + + + + COUNSEL. + + BY DMEETRIEFF. + + + Youth, those moments so entrancing, + Spend in sports and pleasures gay, + Mirth and singing, love and dancing, + Like a shade thou'lt pass away! + + Nature points the way before us, + Friends to her sweet voice give ear, + Form the dances, raise the chorus, + We but for an hour are here. + + Think the term of mirth and pleasure + Comes no more when once gone by, + Let us prize life's only treasure, + Blest with love and jollity. + + And the bard all sorrows scorning, + Who, though old, still joins your ring, + With gay wreaths of flowers adorning + Crown him that he still may sing. + + Youth, those moments so entrancing, + Spend in sports and pleasures gay, + Mirth and singing, love and dancing, + Like a shade thou'lt pass away! + + + + + + + STANZAS. + + BY NELAIDINSKY. + + + He whose soul from sorrow dreary, + Weak and wretched, nought can save, + Who in sadness, sick and weary, + Hopes no refuge but the grave; + On his visage Pleasure beaming, + Ne'er shall shed her placid ray, + Till kind Fate, from wo redeeming, + Leads him to his latest day. + + Thou this life preservest ever, + My distress and my delight! + And, though soul and body sever, + Still I'll live a spirit bright; + In my breast the heart that's kindled + Death's dread strength can ne'er destroy, + Sure the soul with thine that's mingled + Must immortal life enjoy! + + That inspired by breath from heaven + Need not shrink at mortal doom, + To thee shall my vows be given + In this world and that to come. + My fond shade shall constant trace thee, + And attend in friendly guise, + Still surround thee, still embrace thee, + Catch thy thoughts, thy looks, thy sighs. + + To divine its secret pondering, + Close to clasp thy soul 'twill brave, + And if chance shall find thee wandering + Heedless near my silent grave, + Even my ashes then shall tremble, + Thy approach relume their fire, + And that stone in dust shall crumble, + Covering what can ne'er expire! + + + + + + + ODE TO THE WARRIORS OF THE DON. + + WRITTEN IN 1812, BY N.M. SHATROFF. + + + Sudden o'er Moscow rolls the dread thunder, + Fierce o'er his proud borders Don's torrents flow, + High swells each bosom, glowing with vengeance + 'Gainst the base foe. + + Scarce in loud accents spoke our good Monarch, + "Soldiers of Russia! Moscow burns bright, + Foemen destroy her,"--hundreds of thousands + Rush to the fight. + + "Who dare oppose God? who oppose Russians?" + Cried the brave Hetman,--steeds round him tramp,-- + "The Frenchman's ashes quickly we'll scatter, + Show us his camp! + + "TSAR true-believing we are all ready, + Thy throne's defenders, each proud heart bent + By the assault th' invader's black projects + To circumvent. + + "Russians well know the rough road to glory, + Rhine's banks by our troops soon shall be trod, + We fight for vengeance, for love of country, + And faith in God! + + "BELIEVE and conquer, fear not for Russia, + Awful the blow the cross-bearer strikes, + Th'arkan[1] is dreadful, the sword unsparing, + Sharp are our pikes. + + "Vain are Napoleon's skill, strength, and cunning, + Nor do his hosts fill us with despair, + For Michael[2] leads us, and Mary's[3] image + With us we bear. + + "To horse, brothers, haste, the foe approaches, + Holy faith guides us, in God we trust, + Quick, true believers, rush to the onset, + God aids the just! + + "Sternly rush on, friends, crush the vile Frenchman, + Firm be as mountains when tempests blow, + Oh! into Russia grant not the foul one + Further to go." + + Don, broad and mighty, poured forth her children, + The world was amazed, pale with affright, + Napoleon abandoned his fame, and sought + Safety in flight. + + On all sides alike pikes gleam around us, + Through air hiss arrows, cannons bright flash, + Bullets, like bees, in swarms fly terrific, + Mingling swords clash. + + Not half a million of fierce invaders + Can meet the rage of Russia's attacks; + Not more than they the timid deer shrinks at + Sight of Cossacks. + + O'er blood-drenched plains their red standards scattered, + Their arms abandoned, spoils left behind: + Death they now flee from, to loss of honour + Basely resigned. + + Vainly they shun it, fruitless their cunning, + Jove's bird strikes down the blood-thirsty crow, + The fame and bones of Frenchmen in Russia + Alike lie low. + + Thus th' ambitious usurper is vanquished, + Thus his legions destroyed as they flee, + Thus white-stoned Moscow, the first throned city, + Once more set free. + + To God, all potent, let thanks be rendered, + Honoured our TSAR'S and each chieftain's name, + To th'Empire safety, to Don's brave offspring + Laurels and fame! + +[1] Lasso. + +[2] Kutuzoff. + +[3] The Virgin. + + + + + + + SOLITUDE. + + BY MERZLIAKOFF. + + + Upon a hill, which rears itself midst plains extending wide, + Fair flourishes a lofty OAK in beauty's blooming pride; + This lofty oak in solitude its branches wide expands, + All lonesome on the cheerless height like sentinel it stands. + Whom can it lend its friendly shade, should Sol with fervour glow? + And who can shelter _it_ from harm, should tempests rudely blow? + No bushes green, entwining close, here deck the neighbouring ground, + No tufted pines beside it grow, no osiers thrive around. + Sad even to trees their cheerless fate in solitude if grown, + And bitter, bitter is the lot for youth to live alone! + Though gold and silver much is his, how vain the selfish pride! + Though crowned with glory's laurelled wreath, with whom that crown divide? + When I with an acquaintance meet he scarce a bow affords, + And beauties, half saluting me, but grant some transient words. + On some I look myself with dread, whilst others from me fly, + But sadder still the uncherished soul when Fate's dark hour draws nigh; + Oh! where my aching heart relieve when griefs assail me sore? + My friend, who sleeps in the cold earth, comes to my aid no more! + No relatives, alas! of mine in this strange clime appear, + No wife imparts love's fond caress, sweet smile, or pitying tear; + No father feels joy's thrilling throb, as he our transport sees; + No gay and sportive little ones come clambering on my knees;-- + Take back all honours, wealth, and fame, the heart they cannot move, + And give instead the smiles of friends, the tender look of love! + + + + + + + TO MY ROSE. + + + Bright queen of flowers, O! Rose, gay blooming, + How lovely are thy charms to me! + Narcissus proud, pink unassuming, + In beauty vainly vie with thee; + When thou midst Flora's circle shinest, + Each seems thy slave confessed to sigh, + And thou, O! loveliest flower, divinest, + Allur'st alone the passer's eye. + + To change thy fate the thought has struck me, + Sweet Rose, in beauty, ah! how blest, + For fair Eliza I will pluck thee, + And thou shalt deck her virgin breast:-- + Yet, there thy beauties vainly shining, + No more predominance will claim, + To lilies, all thy pride resigning, + Thou'lt yield without dispute thy fame. + + + + + + + TO CUPID. + + + Cupid, one arrow kindly spare, + 'Twill yield me transport beyond measure, + I'll not be mean, by heaven I swear, + With Mary I'll divide the treasure. + + Thou wilt not?--Tyrant, now I see + Thou lovest with grief my soul to harrow; + To her thou'st given thy quiver--for me + Thou hast not left a single arrow! + + + + + + + EVENING MEDITATIONS. + + + Nature in silence sank, and deep repose, + Behind the mountain, Sol had ceased to glare, + Timid the moon with modest lustre rose, + Willing as though my misery to share. + The past was quick presented to my mind, + A gentle languor calmed each throbbing vein, + My poor heart trembled as the leaves from wind, + My melting soul owned melancholy's reign. + Plain did each action of my life appear, + Each feeling bade some fellow feeling start, + On my parched bosom fell the flowing tear, + And cooled the burning anguish of my heart. + Moments of bliss, I cried, ah! whither flown? + When Friendship breathed to me her soothing sighs, + Twice have the fields with golden harvests shone, + And still her blest return stern Fate denies! + Cynthia, thou seest me lone my course pursue, + Hopeless here roving, grief my only guide, + Evenings long past thou call'st to Fancy's view, + Forcing the tear down my pale cheek to glide. + Friendless, of love bereft, what now my joy? + Void are my heart and soul, a prey to pain, + To love, to be beloved, can never cloy, + But all on earth besides, alas! is vain! + + + + + + + THE LITTLE DOVE. + + BY DMETRIEFF. + + + The little dove, with heart of sadness, + In silent pain sighs night and day, + What now can wake that heart to gladness? + His mate beloved is far away. + + He coos no more with soft caresses, + No more is millet sought by him, + The dove his lonesome state distresses, + And tears his swimming eyeballs dim. + + From twig to twig now skips the lover, + Filling the grove with accents kind, + On all sides roams the harmless rover, + Hoping his little friend to find. + + Ah! vain that hope his grief is tasting, + Fate seems to scorn his faithful love, + And imperceptibly is wasting, + Wasting away, the little dove! + + At length upon the grass he threw him, + Hid in his wing his beak and wept, + There ceased his sorrows to pursue him, + The little dove for ever slept. + + His mate, now sad abroad and grieving, + Flies from a distance home again, + Sits by her friend, with bosom heaving, + And bids him wake with sorrowing pain. + + She sighs, she weeps, her spirits languish, + Around and round the spot she goes, + Ah! charming Chloe's lost in anguish, + Her friend wakes not from his repose! + + + + + + + LAURA'S PRAYER. + + + As the harp's soft sighings in the silent valley, + To high heaven reaching, lifts thy pious prayer, + Laura, be tranquil! again with health shall nourish + Thy loved companion. + + O! ye gods, behold fair Laura sunk in anguish, + Kneeling, O! behold her on the grassy hill, + Mild evening's sportive zephyrs gently embracing + Her golden ringlets. + + Glist'ning with tears, her sad eyes to you she raises, + Her fair bosom heaving like the swelling wave, + Whilst in the solemn grove echo, clothed in darkness, + Repeats her accents. + + "O! gods, my friend beloved give again health's blessings, + Faded are her cheeks now, dull her once bright eye, + In her heart no pleasure,--killed by cruel sickness, + As by heat flowers. + + "But if your hard laws should bid her quit existence, + Grant then my sad prayer, with her let me too die,"-- + Laura, be tranquil! thy friend thou'lt see reviving + Like spring's sweet roses. + + + + + + + THE STORM. + + BY DERJAVIN. + + + As my bark in restless ocean + Mounts its rough and foaming hills, + Whilst its waves in dark commotion + Pass me, hope my bosom fills. + + Who, when warring clouds are gleaming, + Quenches the destructive spark? + Say what hand, where safety's beaming, + Guides through rocks my little bark? + + Thou Creator! all o'erseeing, + In this scene preserv'st me dread, + Thou, without whose word decreeing + Not a hair falls from my head. + + Thou in life hast doubly blest me, + All my soul to thee's revealed, + Thou amongst the great hast placed me, + Be midst them my guide and shield! + + + + + + + TO MY HEART. + + + Why, poor heart, so ceaseless languish? + Why with such distresses smart? + Nought alleviates thy anguish, + What afflicts thee so, poor heart? + + Heart, I comprehend not wrongly, + Thou a captive art confest, + Near Eliza thou beat'st strongly + As thou'dst leap into her breast. + + Since 'tis so then, little throbber, + You and I, alas! must part, + I'd not be thy comfort's robber; + To her I'll resign thee, heart. + + Yet the maid in compensation + Must her own bestow on me, + And with such remuneration + Never shall I grieve for thee. + + But should she, thy sorrows spurning, + This exchange, poor heart, deny, + Then I'll bear thee, heart, though mourning, + From her far and hasty fly. + + But, alas! no pain assuaging, + That would but increase thy grief; + If kind Death still not its raging, + Granting thee a kind relief. + + + + + + + TIME. + + + O! Time, as thou on rapid wings + Encirclest earth's extensive ball, + Fatal thy flight to worldly things, + Thy darts cut down and ruin all. + + A cloud from us thy form conceals; + Enwrapt its gloomy folds among, + Thou mov'st eternity's vast wheels, + And with them movest us along. + + The swift-winged days thou urgest on, + With them life's sand beholdest pass, + And when our transient hours are gone, + Thou smilest at their exhausted glass. + + Against Time's look, when he but frowns, + All strength, and skill, and power, are vain; + He withers laurels, wreaths, and crowns, + And breaks the matrimonial chain. + + As Time moves onward, far and wide + His restless scythe mows all away, + All feels his breath, on every side + All sinks, resistless, to decay. + + To youth's gay bloom and beauty's charms + Mercy alike stern Time denies, + Like vernal flowers o'erwhelmed by storms, + Whate'er he looks at droops and dies. + + Huge piles from earth his mighty hand + Sweeps to oblivion's empire dread, + What villages, what cities grand, + What kingdoms sink beneath his tread! + + Heroes in vain, his gauntlet cast, + Oppose his stern and ruthless sway, + Nor armies brave, nor mountains vast, + Can thwart the devastator's way. + + Thought strives, but fruitless, to pursue + The traces of Time's rapid flight, + Scarce Fancy gains one transient view, + He disappears and sinks in night. + + Think, thou whom folly's dazzling glare + Of worldly vanities may blind, + Time frowns and all will disappear, + Nor gold a vestige leave behind. + + And thou whom fierce distresses sting, + Thou by calamities low bowed, + Weep not, for Time the day will bring + That ranks the humble with the proud. + + But, Time, thy course of ruin stay, + The lyre's sweet tones one moment hear, + By thee o'er earth is spread dismay, + Grief's sigh called forth, and pity's tear. + + Yet, Time, thy speed the dread decree + Of retribution on thee brings, + Eternity will swallow thee, + Thy motion stop, and clip thy wings! + + + + + + + SONG. + + + Sweetly came the morning light, + When fair Mary blest my sight, + In her presence pleasures throng, + Louder swelled the birds their song, + Pleasanter the day became. + + Not so radiant are Sol's rays, + When on darkest clouds they blaze, + As her look, so free from guile, + As fair Mary's tender smile, + As the smile of my beloved. + + Not of dew the gems divine + Shine as Mary's beauties shine, + Not with hers the rose's dye + On the fairest cheek can vie, + None have beauty like to hers. + + Mary's kiss as honey sweet, + Pure as streamlet clear and fleet, + Love inhabits her soft eyes, + Floats in all her soothing sighs, + Nought on earth so sweet as she. + + Let us, Mary, now enjoy + Nature's charms without alloy, + Verdant lawn, and smiling grove;-- + Brooks that babble but of love + Will beside us softer flow. + + Let us seek the pleasant shade, + Sit in bowers by us arrayed + With gay flow'rets, where are heard + Songs of many a pleasant bird, + Which with rapture we will join. + + In that sweet and lovely spot, + All the cares of earth forgot, + Thou, the comfort of my sight, + Thou, my glory, my delight, + Shalt my soul to peace allure. + + + + + + + SONG. + + + The shades of spring's delicious even + Invited all to soft repose, + I only sighed to listening heaven + In the still grove my bosom's woes. + + My heart's distress had Fate completed, + Snatched from my sight my best beloved, + And echo's busy voice repeated + Sweet Mary's name where'er I roved. + + Without her sad the days and dreary, + How cheerless drag life's moments on, + Of pleasure's tumults sick and weary, + All blissful thoughts for ever flown! + + But still to me more keen the anguish, + With secret grief my heart must swell, + That her for whom I ceaseless languish + I dare not of my passion tell. + + No hope my cruel pain disarming, + I live a prey to ceaseless wo, + And Mary, sweet, and fair, and charming, + How much I love her does not know. + + How shall I calm this bosom's raging? + O! how alleviate its smart? + Her tender look, all grief assuaging, + Alone can cure my wounded heart. + + + + + + + SONG. + + + How blest am I thy charms enfolding, + Cheerful thy smile as May's fair light, + As Paradise thine eyes are bright, + I all forget when thee beholding,-- + Thou canst not think how sweet thou art. + Thy absence fills my soul with anguish, + Beloved one! hopeless of relief + I count the mournful hours in grief, + My heart for thee doth ceaseless languish,-- + Thou canst not think how sweet thou art! + + + + + + + TO MARY. + + + Vainly, Mary, dost thou pray me + Heedless of thy charms to live, + If thou'dst have me, fair, obey thee, + Thou another heart must give. + + One with stern indifference steeling, + That could know thee and be free, + One that all thy virtues feeling, + Could exist removed from thee. + + That in which thine image blooming, + Holds an empire all its own, + Which, though thou to grief art dooming, + Lives, fair maid, in thee alone; + + Every thought to thee addresses, + Filled by thee with visions bright, + Even 'midst sorrows, pains, distresses, + Thou'rt its comfort, hope, delight. + + I be faithless! love avowing, + To thee first I bent my knee, + Even with soul thy looks endowing, + First I knew _it_ knowing _thee_. + + Yes, my soul to thee returning, + Thine own gift do I restore, + Thou the offering proudly spurning, + I its charm can know no more. + + Do not bid me, hope resigning, + My fond vows of love to cease, + How can I, in silence pining, + Cruel fair one, mar thy peace? + + + + + + +N O T E. + + +Of the following translation of Derjavin's Ode to God, universally +esteemed as one of the sublimest effusions of the Russian Muse, I beg +leave to say that my aim has been to render it into English as literally +as the genius of our language would admit, without adding or suppressing a +single thought, or amplifying a single expression, to accomplish which +metrically would of course be impossible. + +If I have succeeded, my readers will be better able to judge whether this +Ode, after having been translated into the Japanese language, merited the +great honour of being suspended, embroidered with gold, in the temple of +Jeddo, than they can be by a perusal of the highly poetic effort of Dr. +Bowring. For, whilst he has adhered to the structure of versification +adopted in the original, and in some parts has given its sense with +remarkable accuracy, in others he has been less fortunate; and in +venturing to change the Trinitarian faith of Derjavin to suit his own +notions of the unity of the Supreme Being, he has taken a liberty with his +author which cannot but be deemed unwarrantable. + +THE TRANSLATOR. + + + + + + + TO GOD. + + BY DERJAVIN. + + + O! Thou, infinite in space, + Existing in the motion of matter, + Eternal amidst the mutations of time, + Without person, in three persons the Divinity! + The single and omnipresent spirit, + To whom there is neither place nor cause, + Whom none could ever comprehend, + Who fillest all things with thyself, + Embracest, animatest, and preservest them, + Thou whom we denominate God! + + Although a sublime mind might be able + To measure the depths of ocean, + To count the sands, the rays of the planets, + To thee there is neither number nor measure! + Enlightened spirits, although + Proceeding from thy light, + Cannot penetrate thy judgments; + Thought scarce dare lift itself to thee; + It is lost in thy greatness, + Like the past moment in eternity. + + Thou calledst chaos into existence, + Before time, from the abyss of eternity, + And eternity, existing prior to all ages, + Thou foundedst within thyself. + Constituting thyself of thyself, + By means of thyself shining from thyself, + Thou art the light from which light first flowed; + Creating all things by a single word, + Extending thyself throughout the new creation, + Thou wast, thou art, thou shalt be for ever! + + Thou unitest within thyself the chain of beings, + Upholdest and animatest it, + Thou connectest the end with the beginning, + And through death bestowest life. + As sparks shoot forth and scatter themselves, + Thus suns are born of thee: + As, in a cold and clear winter's day, + Particles of frost scintillate, + Whirl about, reel, and glisten,[1] + Even so do the stars in the abysses beneath thee! + + Millions of lighted torches + Fly throughout infinite space, + They execute thy laws, + And shed life-creating rays. + But these fiery luminaries, + Or shining masses of crystal, + Or crowds of boiling golden waves, + Or blazing ether, + Or all the dazzling worlds united-- + Compared to thee are like night compared to day. + + Like a drop of water cast into the ocean + Is this whole firmament compared to thee. + But what is the universe which I behold, + And who am I, in thy presence? + Were I to add to the millions of worlds + Existing in the ocean of air, + A hundred fold as many other worlds--and then + Dare to compare them to thee, + They would scarcely appear an atom, + And I compared to thee--nothing! + + Nothing! yet thou shinest in me + Through thy great goodness: + In me thou imagest thyself, + As the sun is reflected in a small drop of water. + Nothing! yet I am sensible of my existence, + By an indescribable longing I ascend + Steadfastly to a higher region: + My soul hopes to be even as thou, + It inquires, meditates, reasons; + I am, and doubtless thou must be. + + THOU ART! the order of nature proclaims it; + My heart declares it to be so, + My mind assures me of it. + Thou art! and I am not, therefore, nothing! + I am a particle of the whole universe, + Placed, as I think, in that important + Middle point of being, + Where thou finishedst mortal creatures, + Where thou began'st heavenly spirits, + And the chain of all beings unitedst by me. + + I am the bond of worlds existing everywhere; + I am the extreme grade of matter; + I am the centre of living things, + The commencing trait of the Divinity; + My body will resolve itself into ashes, + My mind commands the thunder. + I am a king, a slave, a worm, a god! + But, being thus wonderful, + From whence have I proceeded? This is unknown. + But I could not have existed of myself! + + I am thy work, Creator! + I am the creature of thy supreme wisdom, + Fountain of life, Giver of blessings, + Soul and monarch of my soul! + It was necessary to thy justice + That my immortal being + Should traverse the abyss of death, + That my spirit should be veiled in perishable matter, + And that through death I should return, + Father! to thy immortality! + + Inexplicable, incomprehensible Being! + I know that the imaginings + Of my soul are unable + Even to sketch thy shadow! + But, if it be our duty to praise thee, + Then it is impossible for weak mortals + Otherwise to render thee homage + Than, simply, to lift their hearts to thee, + To give way to boundless joy, + And shed tears of gratitude! + + +[1] The full beauty of this metaphor can only be felt by those who have +witnessed, in a high northern latitude during intensely cold and clear +weather, the state of the atmosphere which the poet describes. + +TRANSLATOR. + + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bakchesarian Fountain and Other +Poems, by Alexander Pushkin and Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN, OTHER POEMS *** + +***** This file should be named 8192.txt or 8192.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/8/1/9/8192/ + +Produced by David Starner, Robert Connal and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Bakchesarian Fountain and Other Poems + +Author: Alexander Pushkin and other authors + +Release Date: May, 2005 [EBook #8192] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on June 30, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Robert Connal +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN. + +BY + +ALEXANDER POOSHKEEN. + + + +AND OTHER POEMS, BY VARIOUS AUTHORS, + + + +TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL RUSSIAN, + +BY + +WILLIAM D. LEWIS. + + + + + + +TO + +MY RUSSIAN FRIENDS, + +THE FOLLOWING EFFORT TO RENDER INTO THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE A FAVOURITE POEM +OF ONE OF THEIR MOST ADMIRED BARDS, AND SOME SHORTER PRODUCTIONS OF OTHER +RUSSIAN POETS, + +IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, + +AS A SMALL TESTIMONIAL OF GRATITUDE FOR THE MANY KINDNESSES OF WHICH I WAS +THE OBJECT IN THEIR MOST HOSPITABLE COUNTRY, IN EARLY LIFE. + +THE TRANSLATOR. + +Philadelphia, July, 1849. + + + + + + +THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN. + +A TALE OF THE TAURIDE. + + +Mute sat Giray, with downcast eye, + As though some spell in sorrow bound him, +His slavish courtiers thronging nigh, + In sad expectance stood around him. +The lips of all had silence sealed, + Whilst, bent on him, each look observant, + Saw grief's deep trace and passion fervent +Upon his gloomy brow revealed. + But the proud Khan his dark eye raising, + And on the courtiers fiercely gazing, +Gave signal to them to begone! +The chief, unwitnessed and alone, + Now yields him to his bosom's smart, +Deeper upon his brow severe + Is traced the anguish of his heart; +As full fraught clouds on mirrors clear + Reflected terrible appear! + +What fills that haughty soul with pain? + What thoughts such madd'ning tumults cause? +With Russia plots he war again? + Would he to Poland dictate laws? +Say, is the sword of vengeance glancing? + Does bold revolt claim nature's right? + Do realms oppressed alarm excite? +Or sabres of fierce foes advancing? +Ah no! no more his proud steed prancing + Beneath him guides the Khan to war,-- + Such thoughts his mind has banished far. + +Has treason scaled the harem's wall, +Whose height might treason's self appal, +And slavery's daughter fled his power, +To yield her to the daring Giaour? + +No! pining in his harem sadly, +No wife of his would act so madly; + To wish or think they scarcely dare; +By wretches, cold and heartless, guarded, +Hope from each breast so long discarded; + Treason could never enter there. +Their beauties unto none revealed, + They bloom within the harem's towers, + As in a hot-house bloom the flowers +Which erst perfumed Arabia's field. +To them the days in sameness dreary, + And months and years pass slow away, +In solitude, of life grown weary, + Well pleased they see their charms decay. +Each day, alas! the past resembling, + Time loiters through their halls and bowers; +In idleness, and fear, and trembling, + The captives pass their joyless hours. +The youngest seek, indeed, reprieve +Their hearts in striving to deceive +Into oblivion of distress, +By vain amusements, gorgeous dress, + Or by the noise of living streams, +In soft translucency meand'ring, + To lose their thoughts in fancy's dreams, +Through shady groves together wand'ring. + But the vile eunuch too is there, +In his base duty ever zealous, + Escape is hopeless to the fair +From ear so keen and eye so jealous. + He ruled the harem, order reigned +Eternal there; the trusted treasure + He watched with loyalty unfeigned, +His only law his chieftain's pleasure, + Which as the Koran he maintained. +His soul love's gentle flame derides, +And like a statue he abides + Hatred, contempt, reproaches, jests, +Nor prayers relax his temper rigid, + Nor timid sighs from tender breasts, +To all alike the wretch is frigid. + He knows how woman's sighs can melt, + Freeman and bondman he had felt +Her art in days when he was younger; + Her silent tear, her suppliant look, + Which once his heart confiding shook, +Now move not,--he believes no longer! + +When, to relieve the noontide heat, + The captives go their limbs to lave, +And in sequestered, cool retreat + Yield all their beauties to the wave, +No stranger eye their charms may greet, + But their strict guard is ever nigh, + Viewing with unimpassioned eye + These beauteous daughters of delight; + He constant, even in gloom of night, +Through the still harem cautious stealing, + Silent, o'er carpet-covered floors, + And gliding through half-opened doors, +From couch to couch his pathway feeling, + With envious and unwearied care + Watching the unsuspecting fair; +And whilst in sleep unguarded lying, +Their slightest movement, breathing, sighing, + He catches with devouring ear. +O! curst that moment inauspicious + Should some loved name in dreams be sighed, +Or youth her unpermitted wishes + To friendship venture to confide. + + * * * * * + +What pang is Giray's bosom tearing? + Extinguished is his loved _chubouk_,[1] +Whilst or to move or breathe scarce daring, + The eunuch watches every look; +Quick as the chief, approaching near him, + Beckons, the door is open thrown, +And Giray wanders through his harem + Where joy to him no more is known. +Near to a fountain's lucid waters +Captivity's unhappy daughters + The Khan await, in fair array, +Around on silken carpets crowded, +Viewing, beneath a heaven unclouded, +With childish joy the fishes play +And o'er the marble cleave their way, +Whose golden scales are brightly glancing, +And on the mimic billows dancing. + Now female slaves in rich attire +Serve sherbet to the beauteous fair, + Whilst plaintive strains from viewless choir +Float sudden on the ambient air. + +TARTAR SONG. + + I. + + Heaven visits man with days of sadness, + Embitters oft his nights with tears; + Blest is the Fakir who with gladness + Views Mecca in declining years. + + II. + + Blest he who sees pale Death await him + On Danube's ever glorious shore; + The girls of Paradise shall greet him, + And sorrows ne'er afflict him more. + + III. + + But he more blest, O beauteous Zarem! + Who quits the world and all its woes, + To clasp thy charms within the harem, + Thou lovelier than the unplucked rose! + + +They sing, but-where, alas! is Zarem, +Love's star, the glory of the harem? +Pallid and sad no praise she hears, +Deaf to all sounds of joy her ears, +Downcast with grief, her youthful form +Yields like the palm tree to the storm, +Fair Zarem's dreams of bliss are o'er, +Her loved Giray loves her no more! + +He leaves thee! yet whose charms divine +Can equal, fair Grusinian! thine? +Shading thy brow, thy raven hair +Its lily fairness makes more fair; +Thine eyes of love appear more bright +Than noonday's beam, more dark than night; +Whose voice like thine can breathe of blisses, + Filling the heart with soft desire? +Like thine, ah! whose inflaming kisses + Can kindle passion's wildest fire? + +Who that has felt thy twining arms +Could quit them for another's charms? + Yet cold, and passionless, and cruel, +Giray can thy vast love despise, +Passing the lonesome night in sighs + Heaved for another; fiercer fuel +Burns in his heart since the fair Pole +Is placed within the chief's control. + +The young Maria recent war +Had borne in conquest from afar; +Not long her love-enkindling eyes +Had gazed upon these foreign skies; +Her aged father's boast and pride, +She bloomed in beauty by his side; + Each wish was granted ere expressed. +She to his heart the object dearest, + His sole desire to see her blessed; +As when the skies from clouds are clearest, + Still from her youthful heart to chase +Her childish sorrows his endeavour, +Hoping in after life that never + Her woman's duties might efface +Remembrance of her earlier hours, + But oft that fancy would retrace +Life's blissful spring-time decked in flowers. + Her form a thousand charms unfolded, + Her face by beauty's self was moulded, +Her dark blue eyes were full of fire,-- + All nature's stores on her were lavished; +The magic harp with soft desire, + When touched by her, the senses ravished. +Warriors and knights had sought in vain + Maria's virgin heart to move, +And many a youth in secret pain + Pined for her in despairing love. +But love she knew not, in her breast + Tranquil it had not yet intruded, +Her days in mirth, her nights in rest, + In her paternal halls secluded, +Passed heedless, peace her bosom's guest. + +That time is past! The Tartar's force + Rushed like a torrent o'er her nation,-- + Rages less fierce the conflagration +Devouring harvests in its course,-- + Poland it swept with devastation, +Involving all in equal fate, + The villages, once mirthful, vanished, + From their red ruins joy was banished, +The gorgeous palace desolate! + Maria is the victor's prize;-- +Within the palace chapel laid, +Slumb'ring among th'illustrious dead, + In recent tomb her father lies; +His ancestors repose around, + Long freed from life and its alarms; + With coronets and princely arms +Bedecked their monuments abound! + A base successor now holds sway,-- +Maria's natal halls his hand + Tyrannic rules, and strikes dismay +And wo throughout the ravaged land. + +Alas! the Princess sorrow's chalice + Is fated to the dregs to drain, +Immured in Bakchesaria's palace + She sighs for liberty in vain; + The Khan observes the maiden's pain, +His heart is at her grief afflicted, + His bosom strange emotions fill, + And least of all Maria's will +Is by the harem's laws restricted. + The hateful guard, of all the dread, +Learns silent to respect and fear her, + His eye ne'er violates her bed, +Nor day nor night he ventures near her; + To her he dares not speak rebuke, + Nor on her cast suspecting look. +Her bath she sought by none attended, + Except her chosen female slave, + The Khan to her such freedom gave; +But rarely he himself offended + By visits, the desponding fair, +Remotely lodged, none else intruded; + It seemed as though some jewel rare, +Something unearthly were secluded, + And careful kept untroubled there. + +Within her chamber thus secure, +By virtue guarded, chaste and pure, + The lamp of faith, incessant burning, +The VIRGIN'S image blest illumed, + The comfort of the spirit mourning +And trust of those to sorrow doomed. + The holy symbol's face reflected +The rays of hope in splendour bright, + And the rapt soul by faith directed +To regions of eternal light. + Maria, near the VIRGIN kneeling, +In silence gave her anguish way, + Unnoticed by the crowd unfeeling, +And whilst the rest, or sad or gay, +Wasted in idleness the day, + The sacred image still concealing, +Before it pouring forth her prayer, +She watched with ever jealous care; +Even as our hearts to error given, +Yet lighted by a spark from heaven, +Howe'er from virtue's paths we swerve, +One holy feeling still preserve. + + * * * * * + +Now night invests with black apparel + Luxurious Tauride's verdant fields, +Whilst her sweet notes from groves of laurel + The plaintive Philomela yields. +But soon night's glorious queen, advancing + Through cloudless skies to the stars' song, + Scatters the hills and dales along, +The lustre of her rays entrancing. + In Bakchesaria's streets roamed free +The Tartars' wives in garb befitting, +They like unprisoned shades were flitting + From house to house their friends to see, +And while the evening hours away +In harmless sports or converse gay. + The inmates of the harem slept;-- + Still was the palace, night impending + O'er all her silent empire kept; +The eunuch guard, no more offending + The fair ones by his presence, now +Slumbered, but fear his soul attending + Troubled his rest and knit his brow; +Suspicion kept his fancy waking, + And on his mind incessant preyed, +The air the slightest murmur breaking + Assailed his ear with sounds of dread. +Now, by some noise deceitful cheated, + Starts from his sleep the timid slave, +Listens to hear the noise repeated, + But all is silent as the grave, +Save where the fountains softly sounding + Break from their marble prisons free, +Or night's sweet birds the scene surrounding + Pour forth their notes of melody: +Long does he hearken to the strain, +Then sinks fatigued in sleep again. + +Luxurious East! how soft thy nights, + What magic through the soul they pour! +How fruitful they of fond delights + To those who Mahomet adore! +What splendour in each house is found, + Each garden seems enchanted ground; + Within the harem's precincts quiet +Beneath fair Luna's placid ray, + When angry feelings cease to riot +There love inspires with softer sway! + + * * * * + +The women sleep;--but one is there +Who sleeps not; goaded by despair +Her couch she quits with dread intent, +On awful errand is she bent; + Breathless she through the door swift flying +Passes unseen; her timid feet +Scarce touch the floor, she glides so fleet. + In doubtful slumber restless lying +The eunuch thwarts the fair one's path, +Ah! who can speak his bosom's wrath? +False is the quiet sleep would throw +Around that gray and care-worn brow; +She like a spirit vanished by +Viewless, unheard as her own sigh! + + * * * * + +The door she reaches, trembling opes, + Enters, and looks around with awe, +What sorrows, anguish, terrors, hopes, + Rushed through her heart at what she saw! +The image of the sacred maid, + The Christian's matron, reigning there, + And cross attracted first the fair, +By the dim lamp-light scarce displayed! + Oh! Grusinka, of earlier days +The vision burst upon thy soul, + The tongue long silent uttered praise, +The heart throbs high, but sin's control + Cannot escape, 'tis passion, passion sways! + +The Princess in a maid's repose +Slumbered, her cheek, tinged like the rose, + By feverish thought, in beauty blooms, +And the fresh tear that stains her face + A smile of tenderness illumes. +Thus cheers the moon fair Flora's race, + When by the rain opprest they lie + The charm and grief of every eye! +It seemed as though an angel slept + From heaven descended, who, distressed, + Vented the feelings of his breast, +And for the harem's inmates wept! + Alas! poor Zarem, wretched fair, + By anguish urged to mere despair, + On bended knee, in tone subdued + And melting strain, for pity sued. + + "Oh! spurn not such a suppliant's prayer!" + Her tones so sad, her sighs so deep, + Startled the Princess in her sleep; +Wond'ring, she views with dread before her + The stranger beauty, frighted hears +For mercy her soft voice implore her, + Raises her up with trembling hand, + And makes of her the quick demand, + "Who speaks? in night's still hour alone, + Wherefore art here?" "A wretched one, + To thee I come," the fair replied, + "A suitor not to be denied; +Hope, hope alone my soul sustains; + Long have I happiness enjoyed, + And lived from sorrow free and care, +But now, alas! a prey to pains + And terrors, Princess hear my prayer, + Oh! listen, or I am destroyed! + +Not here beheld I first the light, + Far hence my native land, but yet + Alas! I never can forget +Objects once precious to my sight; + Well I remember towering mountains, + Snow-ridged, replete with boiling fountains, + Woods pervious scarce to wolf or deer, + Nor faith, nor manners such as here; + But, by what cruel fate o'ercome, + How I was snatched, or when, from home +I know not,--well the heaving ocean + Do I remember, and its roar, +But, ah! my heart such wild commotion + As shakes it now ne'er felt before. +I in the harem's quiet bloomed, + Tranquil myself, waiting, alas! +With willing heart what love had doomed; + Its secret wishes came to pass: +Giray his peaceful harem sought, + For feats of war no longer burned, +Nor, pleased, upon its horrors thought, + To these fair scenes again returned. + +"Before the Khan with bosoms beating + We stood, timid my eyes I raised, +When suddenly our glances meeting, + I drank in rapture as I gazed; +He called me to him,--from that hour +We lived in bliss beyond the power +Of evil thought or wicked word, +The tongue of calumny unheard, + Suspicion, doubt, or jealous fear, +Of weariness alike unknown, + Princess, thou comest a captive here, +And all my joys are overthrown, + Giray with sinful passion burns, +His soul possessed of thee alone, + My tears and sighs the traitor spurns; +No more his former thoughts, nor feeling + For me now cherishes Giray, +Scarce his disgust, alas! concealing, + He from my presence hastes away. +Princess, I know the fault not thine + That Giray loves thee, oh! then hear + A suppliant wretch, nor spurn her prayer! + + Throughout the harem none but thou +Could rival beauties such as mine + Nor make him violate his vow; +Yet, Princess! in thy bosom cold + The heart to mine left thus forlorn, +The love I feel cannot be told, + For passion, Princess, was I born. +Yield me Giray then; with these tresses + Oft have his wandering fingers played, +My lips still glow with his caresses, + Snatched as he sighed, and swore, and prayed, +Oaths broken now so often plighted! +Hearts mingled once now disunited! + His treason I cannot survive; +Thou seest I weep, I bend my knee, + Ah! if to pity thou'rt alive, +My former love restore to me. + Reply not! thee I do not blame, +Thy beauties have bewitched Giray, + Blinded his heart to love and fame, +Then yield him up to me, I pray, + Or by contempt, repulse, or grief, + Turn from thy love th'ungenerous chief! +Swear by thy _faith_, for what though mine + Conform now to the Koran's laws, +Acknowledged here within the harem, +Princess, my mother's faith was thine, +By that faith swear to give to Zarem + Giray unaltered, as he was! +But listen! the sad prey to scorn + If I must live, Princess, have care, + A dagger still doth Zarem wear,-- +I near the Caucasus was born!" + +She spake, then sudden disappeared, + And left the Princess in dismay, +Who scarce knew what or why she feared; + Such words of passion till that day +She ne'er had heard. Alas! was she + To be the ruthless chieftain's prey? +Vain was all hope his grasp to flee. + Oh! God, that in some dungeon's gloom +Remote, forgotten, she had lain, + Or that it were her blessed doom +To 'scape dishonour, life, and pain! + How would Maria with delight +This world of wretchedness resign; + Vanished of youth her visions bright, +Abandoned she to fates malign! + Sinless she to the world was given, +And so remains, thus pure and fair, + Her soul is called again to heaven, +And angel joys await it there! + + * * * * * + +Days passed away; Maria slept + Peaceful, no cares disturbed her, now,-- +From earth the orphan maid was swept. + But who knew when, or where, or how? +If prey to grief or pain she fell, +If slain or heaven-struck, who can tell? +She sleeps; her loss the chieftain grieves, +And his neglected harem leaves, + Flies from its tranquil precincts far, +And with his Tartars takes the field, + Fierce rushes mid the din of war, +And brave the foe that does not yield, + For mad despair hath nerved his arm, +Though in his heart is grief concealed, + With passion's hopeless transports warm. +His blade he swings aloft in air + And wildly brandishes, then low +It falls, whilst he with pallid stare + Gazes, and tears in torrents flow. + +His harem by the chief deserted, + In foreign lands he warring roved, +Long nor in wish nor thought reverted + To scene once cherished and beloved. +His women to the eunuch's rage +Abandoned, pined and sank in age; +The fair Grusinian now no more +Yielded her soul to passion's power, +Her fate was with Maria's blended, +On the same night their sorrows ended; + Seized by mute guards the hapless fair +Into a deep abyss they threw,-- + If vast her crime, through love's despair, +Her punishment was dreadful too! + +At length th'exhausted Khan returned, + Enough of waste his sword had dealt, +The Russian cot no longer burned, + Nor Caucasus his fury felt. +In token of Maria's loss + A marble fountain he upreared +In spot recluse;--the Christian's cross + Upon the monument appeared, +(Surmounting it a crescent bright, + Emblem of ignorance and night!) +Th'inscription mid the silent waste +Not yet has time's rude hand effaced, + Still do the gurgling waters pour +Their streams dispensing sadness round, + As mothers weep for sons no more, +In never-ending sorrows drowned. + In morn fair maids, (and twilight late,) +Roam where this monument appears, + And pitying poor Maria's fate + Entitle it the FOUNT OF TEARS! + + * * * * * + +My native land abandoned long, +I sought this realm of love and song. +Through Bakchesaria's palace wandered, +Upon its vanished greatness pondered; + All silent now those spacious halls, +And courts deserted, once so gay + With feasters thronged within their walls, +Carousing after battle fray. + Even now each desolated room +And ruined garden luxury breathes, + The fountains play, the roses bloom, +The vine unnoticed twines its wreaths, + Gold glistens, shrubs exhale perfume. +The shattered casements still are there + Within which once, in days gone by, +Their beads of amber chose the fair, + And heaved the unregarded sigh; +The cemetery there I found, + Of conquering khans the last abode, +Columns with marble turbans crowned + Their resting-place the traveller showed, +And seemed to speak fate's stern decree, +"As they are now such all shall be!" +Where now those chiefs? the harem where? +Alas! how sad scene once so fair! +Now breathless silence chains the air! + But not of this my mind was full, +The roses' breath, the fountains flowing, +The sun's last beam its radiance throwing + Around, all served my heart to lull +Into forgetfulness, when lo! +A maiden's shade, fairer than snow, + Across the court swift winged its flight;-- + Whose shade, oh friends! then struck my sight? + Whose beauteous image hovering near + Filled me with wonder and with fear? +Maria's form beheld I then? + Or was it the unhappy Zarem, +Who jealous thither came again + To roam through the deserted harem? +That tender look I cannot flee, +Those charms still earthly still I see! + + * * * * * + +He who the muse and peace adores, + Forgetting glory, love, and gold, +Again thy ever flowery shores + Soon, Salgir! joyful shall behold; +The bard shall wind thy rocky ways + Filled with fond sympathies, shall view + Tauride's bright skies and waves of blue +With greedy and enraptured gaze. + Enchanting region! full of life +Thy hills, thy woods, thy leaping streams, + Ambered and rubied vines, all rife +With pleasure, spot of fairy dreams! + Valleys of verdure, fruits, and flowers, + Cool waterfalls and fragrant bowers! +All serve the traveller's heart to fill + With joy as he in hour of morn + By his accustomed steed is borne +In safety o'er dell, rock, and hill, + Whilst the rich herbage, bent with dews, +Sparkles and rustles on the ground, + As he his venturous path pursues +Where AYOUDAHGA'S crags surround! + +[1] A Turkish pipe. + + + + + + +AMATORY AND OTHER POEMS, + +BY + +VARIOUS RUSSIAN AUTHORS. + + +[Several of the following translations were published anonymously, many +years since, in the "National Gazette," when edited by Robert Walsh, Esq., +and in the "Atlantic Souvenir," and other periodicals.] + + + + + + +AMATORY AND OTHER POEMS. + + + + + + +SONG. + + +I through gay and brilliant places + Long my wayward course had bound, +Oft had gazed on beauteous faces, + But no loved one yet had found. + +Careless, onward did I saunter, + Seeking no beloved to see, +Rather dreading such encounter, + Wishing ever to be free. + +Thus from all temptation fleeing, + Hoped I long unchecked to rove, +'Till the fair Louisa seeing,-- + Who can see her, and not love? + +Sol, his splendid robes arrayed in, + Just behind the hills was gone, +When one eve I saw the maiden + Tripping o'er the verdant lawn. + +Of a strange, tumultuous feeling, + As I gazed I felt the sway, +And, with brain on fire and reeling, + Homeward quick I bent my way. + +Through my bosom rapid darting, + Love 'twas plain I could not brave, +And with boasted freedom parting, + I became Louisa's slave. + + + + + + +THE HUSBAND'S LAMENT. + +BY P. PELSKY. + + +Parted now, alas! for ever + From the object of my heart, +Thus by cruel fate afflicted, + Grief shall be my only part, + +I, bereft of her blest presence, + Shall my life in anguish spend, +Joy a stranger to my bosom, + Wo with every thought shall blend. + +Double was my meed of pleasure + When in it a share she bore, +Of my pains, though keen and piercing, + Viewing her I thought no more. + +All is past! and I, unhappy, + Here on earth am left alone, +All my transports now are vanished, + Blissful hours! how swiftly flown. + +Vainly friends, with kind compassion, + Me to calm my grief conjure, +Vainly strive my heart to comfort, + It the grave alone can cure. + +Fate one hope allows me only, + Which allays my bosom's pain-- +Death our loving hearts divided, + Death our hearts can join again! + + + + + + +COUNSEL. + +BY DMEETRIEFF. + + +Youth, those moments so entrancing, + Spend in sports and pleasures gay, +Mirth and singing, love and dancing, + Like a shade thou'lt pass away! + +Nature points the way before us, + Friends to her sweet voice give ear, +Form the dances, raise the chorus, + We but for an hour are here. + +Think the term of mirth and pleasure + Comes no more when once gone by, +Let us prize life's only treasure, + Blest with love and jollity. + +And the bard all sorrows scorning, + Who, though old, still joins your ring, +With gay wreaths of flowers adorning + Crown him that he still may sing. + +Youth, those moments so entrancing, + Spend in sports and pleasures gay, +Mirth and singing, love and dancing, + Like a shade thou'lt pass away! + + + + + + +STANZAS. + +BY NELAIDINSKY. + + +He whose soul from sorrow dreary, + Weak and wretched, nought can save, +Who in sadness, sick and weary, + Hopes no refuge but the grave; +On his visage Pleasure beaming, + Ne'er shall shed her placid ray, +Till kind Fate, from wo redeeming, + Leads him to his latest day. + +Thou this life preservest ever, + My distress and my delight! +And, though soul and body sever, + Still I'll live a spirit bright; +In my breast the heart that's kindled + Death's dread strength can ne'er destroy, +Sure the soul with thine that's mingled + Must immortal life enjoy! + +That inspired by breath from heaven + Need not shrink at mortal doom, +To thee shall my vows be given + In this world and that to come. +My fond shade shall constant trace thee, + And attend in friendly guise, +Still surround thee, still embrace thee, + Catch thy thoughts, thy looks, thy sighs. + +To divine its secret pondering, + Close to clasp thy soul 'twill brave, +And if chance shall find thee wandering + Heedless near my silent grave, +Even my ashes then shall tremble, + Thy approach relume their fire, +And that stone in dust shall crumble, + Covering what can ne'er expire! + + + + + + +ODE TO THE WARRIORS OF THE DON. + +WRITTEN IN 1812, BY N.M. SHATROFF. + + +Sudden o'er Moscow rolls the dread thunder, +Fierce o'er his proud borders Don's torrents flow, +High swells each bosom, glowing with vengeance + 'Gainst the base foe. + +Scarce in loud accents spoke our good Monarch, +"Soldiers of Russia! Moscow burns bright, +Foemen destroy her,"--hundreds of thousands + Rush to the fight. + +"Who dare oppose God? who oppose Russians?" +Cried the brave Hetman,--steeds round him tramp,-- +"The Frenchman's ashes quickly we'll scatter, + Show us his camp! + +"TSAR true-believing we are all ready, +Thy throne's defenders, each proud heart bent +By the assault th' invader's black projects + To circumvent. + +"Russians well know the rough road to glory, +Rhine's banks by our troops soon shall be trod, +We fight for vengeance, for love of country, + And faith in God! + +"BELIEVE and conquer, fear not for Russia, +Awful the blow the cross-bearer strikes, +Th'arkan[1] is dreadful, the sword unsparing, + Sharp are our pikes. + +"Vain are Napoleon's skill, strength, and cunning, +Nor do his hosts fill us with despair, +For Michael[2] leads us, and Mary's[3] image + With us we bear. + +"To horse, brothers, haste, the foe approaches, +Holy faith guides us, in God we trust, +Quick, true believers, rush to the onset, + God aids the just! + +"Sternly rush on, friends, crush the vile Frenchman, +Firm be as mountains when tempests blow, +Oh! into Russia grant not the foul one + Further to go." + +Don, broad and mighty, poured forth her children, +The world was amazed, pale with affright, +Napoleon abandoned his fame, and sought + Safety in flight. + +On all sides alike pikes gleam around us, +Through air hiss arrows, cannons bright flash, +Bullets, like bees, in swarms fly terrific, + Mingling swords clash. + +Not half a million of fierce invaders +Can meet the rage of Russia's attacks; +Not more than they the timid deer shrinks at + Sight of Cossacks. + +O'er blood-drenched plains their red standards scattered, +Their arms abandoned, spoils left behind: +Death they now flee from, to loss of honour + Basely resigned. + +Vainly they shun it, fruitless their cunning, +Jove's bird strikes down the blood-thirsty crow, +The fame and bones of Frenchmen in Russia + Alike lie low. + +Thus th' ambitious usurper is vanquished, +Thus his legions destroyed as they flee, +Thus white-stoned Moscow, the first throned city, + Once more set free. + +To God, all potent, let thanks be rendered, +Honoured our TSAR'S and each chieftain's name, +To th'Empire safety, to Don's brave offspring + Laurels and fame! + +[1] Lasso. + +[2] Kutuzoff. + +[3] The Virgin. + + + + + + +SOLITUDE. + +BY MERZLIAKOFF. + + +Upon a hill, which rears itself midst plains extending wide, +Fair flourishes a lofty OAK in beauty's blooming pride; +This lofty oak in solitude its branches wide expands, +All lonesome on the cheerless height like sentinel it stands. +Whom can it lend its friendly shade, should Sol with fervour glow? +And who can shelter _it_ from harm, should tempests rudely blow? +No bushes green, entwining close, here deck the neighbouring ground, +No tufted pines beside it grow, no osiers thrive around. +Sad even to trees their cheerless fate in solitude if grown, +And bitter, bitter is the lot for youth to live alone! +Though gold and silver much is his, how vain the selfish pride! +Though crowned with glory's laurelled wreath, with whom that crown divide? +When I with an acquaintance meet he scarce a bow affords, +And beauties, half saluting me, but grant some transient words. +On some I look myself with dread, whilst others from me fly, +But sadder still the uncherished soul when Fate's dark hour draws nigh; +Oh! where my aching heart relieve when griefs assail me sore? +My friend, who sleeps in the cold earth, comes to my aid no more! +No relatives, alas! of mine in this strange clime appear, +No wife imparts love's fond caress, sweet smile, or pitying tear; +No father feels joy's thrilling throb, as he our transport sees; +No gay and sportive little ones come clambering on my knees;-- +Take back all honours, wealth, and fame, the heart they cannot move, +And give instead the smiles of friends, the tender look of love! + + + + + + +TO MY ROSE. + + +Bright queen of flowers, O! Rose, gay blooming, + How lovely are thy charms to me! +Narcissus proud, pink unassuming, + In beauty vainly vie with thee; +When thou midst Flora's circle shinest, + Each seems thy slave confessed to sigh, +And thou, O! loveliest flower, divinest, + Allur'st alone the passer's eye. + +To change thy fate the thought has struck me, + Sweet Rose, in beauty, ah! how blest, +For fair Eliza I will pluck thee, + And thou shalt deck her virgin breast:-- +Yet, there thy beauties vainly shining, + No more predominance will claim, +To lilies, all thy pride resigning, + Thou'lt yield without dispute thy fame. + + + + + + +TO CUPID. + + +Cupid, one arrow kindly spare, + 'Twill yield me transport beyond measure, +I'll not be mean, by heaven I swear, + With Mary I'll divide the treasure. + +Thou wilt not?--Tyrant, now I see + Thou lovest with grief my soul to harrow; +To her thou'st given thy quiver--for me + Thou hast not left a single arrow! + + + + + + +EVENING MEDITATIONS. + + +Nature in silence sank, and deep repose, + Behind the mountain, Sol had ceased to glare, +Timid the moon with modest lustre rose, + Willing as though my misery to share. +The past was quick presented to my mind, + A gentle languor calmed each throbbing vein, +My poor heart trembled as the leaves from wind, + My melting soul owned melancholy's reign. +Plain did each action of my life appear, + Each feeling bade some fellow feeling start, +On my parched bosom fell the flowing tear, + And cooled the burning anguish of my heart. +Moments of bliss, I cried, ah! whither flown? + When Friendship breathed to me her soothing sighs, +Twice have the fields with golden harvests shone, + And still her blest return stern Fate denies! +Cynthia, thou seest me lone my course pursue, + Hopeless here roving, grief my only guide, +Evenings long past thou call'st to Fancy's view, + Forcing the tear down my pale cheek to glide. +Friendless, of love bereft, what now my joy? + Void are my heart and soul, a prey to pain, +To love, to be beloved, can never cloy, + But all on earth besides, alas! is vain! + + + + + + +THE LITTLE DOVE. + +BY DMETRIEFF. + + +The little dove, with heart of sadness, + In silent pain sighs night and day, +What now can wake that heart to gladness? + His mate beloved is far away. + +He coos no more with soft caresses, + No more is millet sought by him, +The dove his lonesome state distresses, + And tears his swimming eyeballs dim. + +From twig to twig now skips the lover, + Filling the grove with accents kind, +On all sides roams the harmless rover, + Hoping his little friend to find. + +Ah! vain that hope his grief is tasting, + Fate seems to scorn his faithful love, +And imperceptibly is wasting, + Wasting away, the little dove! + +At length upon the grass he threw him, + Hid in his wing his beak and wept, +There ceased his sorrows to pursue him, + The little dove for ever slept. + +His mate, now sad abroad and grieving, + Flies from a distance home again, +Sits by her friend, with bosom heaving, + And bids him wake with sorrowing pain. + +She sighs, she weeps, her spirits languish, + Around and round the spot she goes, +Ah! charming Chloe's lost in anguish, + Her friend wakes not from his repose! + + + + + + +LAURA'S PRAYER. + + +As the harp's soft sighings in the silent valley, +To high heaven reaching, lifts thy pious prayer, +Laura, be tranquil! again with health shall nourish + Thy loved companion. + +O! ye gods, behold fair Laura sunk in anguish, +Kneeling, O! behold her on the grassy hill, +Mild evening's sportive zephyrs gently embracing + Her golden ringlets. + +Glist'ning with tears, her sad eyes to you she raises, +Her fair bosom heaving like the swelling wave, +Whilst in the solemn grove echo, clothed in darkness, + Repeats her accents. + +"O! gods, my friend beloved give again health's blessings, +Faded are her cheeks now, dull her once bright eye, +In her heart no pleasure,--killed by cruel sickness, + As by heat flowers. + +"But if your hard laws should bid her quit existence, +Grant then my sad prayer, with her let me too die,"-- +Laura, be tranquil! thy friend thou'lt see reviving + Like spring's sweet roses. + + + + + + +THE STORM. + +BY DERJAVIN. + + +As my bark in restless ocean + Mounts its rough and foaming hills, +Whilst its waves in dark commotion + Pass me, hope my bosom fills. + +Who, when warring clouds are gleaming, + Quenches the destructive spark? +Say what hand, where safety's beaming, + Guides through rocks my little bark? + +Thou Creator! all o'erseeing, + In this scene preserv'st me dread, +Thou, without whose word decreeing + Not a hair falls from my head. + +Thou in life hast doubly blest me, + All my soul to thee's revealed, +Thou amongst the great hast placed me, + Be midst them my guide and shield! + + + + + + +TO MY HEART. + + +Why, poor heart, so ceaseless languish? + Why with such distresses smart? +Nought alleviates thy anguish, + What afflicts thee so, poor heart? + +Heart, I comprehend not wrongly, + Thou a captive art confest, +Near Eliza thou beat'st strongly + As thou'dst leap into her breast. + +Since 'tis so then, little throbber, + You and I, alas! must part, +I'd not be thy comfort's robber; + To her I'll resign thee, heart. + +Yet the maid in compensation + Must her own bestow on me, +And with such remuneration + Never shall I grieve for thee. + +But should she, thy sorrows spurning, + This exchange, poor heart, deny, +Then I'll bear thee, heart, though mourning, + From her far and hasty fly. + +But, alas! no pain assuaging, + That would but increase thy grief; +If kind Death still not its raging, + Granting thee a kind relief. + + + + + + +TIME. + + +O! Time, as thou on rapid wings + Encirclest earth's extensive ball, +Fatal thy flight to worldly things, + Thy darts cut down and ruin all. + +A cloud from us thy form conceals; + Enwrapt its gloomy folds among, +Thou mov'st eternity's vast wheels, + And with them movest us along. + +The swift-winged days thou urgest on, + With them life's sand beholdest pass, +And when our transient hours are gone, + Thou smilest at their exhausted glass. + +Against Time's look, when he but frowns, + All strength, and skill, and power, are vain; +He withers laurels, wreaths, and crowns, + And breaks the matrimonial chain. + +As Time moves onward, far and wide + His restless scythe mows all away, +All feels his breath, on every side + All sinks, resistless, to decay. + +To youth's gay bloom and beauty's charms + Mercy alike stern Time denies, +Like vernal flowers o'erwhelmed by storms, + Whate'er he looks at droops and dies. + +Huge piles from earth his mighty hand + Sweeps to oblivion's empire dread, +What villages, what cities grand, + What kingdoms sink beneath his tread! + +Heroes in vain, his gauntlet cast, + Oppose his stern and ruthless sway, +Nor armies brave, nor mountains vast, + Can thwart the devastator's way. + +Thought strives, but fruitless, to pursue + The traces of Time's rapid flight, +Scarce Fancy gains one transient view, + He disappears and sinks in night. + +Think, thou whom folly's dazzling glare + Of worldly vanities may blind, +Time frowns and all will disappear, + Nor gold a vestige leave behind. + +And thou whom fierce distresses sting, + Thou by calamities low bowed, +Weep not, for Time the day will bring + That ranks the humble with the proud. + +But, Time, thy course of ruin stay, + The lyre's sweet tones one moment hear, +By thee o'er earth is spread dismay, + Grief's sigh called forth, and pity's tear. + +Yet, Time, thy speed the dread decree + Of retribution on thee brings, +Eternity will swallow thee, + Thy motion stop, and clip thy wings! + + + + + + +SONG. + + +Sweetly came the morning light, +When fair Mary blest my sight, +In her presence pleasures throng, +Louder swelled the birds their song, + Pleasanter the day became. + +Not so radiant are Sol's rays, +When on darkest clouds they blaze, +As her look, so free from guile, +As fair Mary's tender smile, + As the smile of my beloved. + +Not of dew the gems divine +Shine as Mary's beauties shine, +Not with hers the rose's dye +On the fairest cheek can vie, + None have beauty like to hers. + +Mary's kiss as honey sweet, +Pure as streamlet clear and fleet, +Love inhabits her soft eyes, +Floats in all her soothing sighs, + Nought on earth so sweet as she. + +Let us, Mary, now enjoy +Nature's charms without alloy, +Verdant lawn, and smiling grove;-- +Brooks that babble but of love + Will beside us softer flow. + +Let us seek the pleasant shade, +Sit in bowers by us arrayed +With gay flow'rets, where are heard +Songs of many a pleasant bird, + Which with rapture we will join. + +In that sweet and lovely spot, +All the cares of earth forgot, +Thou, the comfort of my sight, +Thou, my glory, my delight, + Shalt my soul to peace allure. + + + + + + +SONG. + + +The shades of spring's delicious even + Invited all to soft repose, +I only sighed to listening heaven + In the still grove my bosom's woes. + +My heart's distress had Fate completed, + Snatched from my sight my best beloved, +And echo's busy voice repeated + Sweet Mary's name where'er I roved. + +Without her sad the days and dreary, + How cheerless drag life's moments on, +Of pleasure's tumults sick and weary, + All blissful thoughts for ever flown! + +But still to me more keen the anguish, + With secret grief my heart must swell, +That her for whom I ceaseless languish + I dare not of my passion tell. + +No hope my cruel pain disarming, + I live a prey to ceaseless wo, +And Mary, sweet, and fair, and charming, + How much I love her does not know. + +How shall I calm this bosom's raging? + O! how alleviate its smart? +Her tender look, all grief assuaging, + Alone can cure my wounded heart. + + + + + + +SONG. + + +How blest am I thy charms enfolding, + Cheerful thy smile as May's fair light, + As Paradise thine eyes are bright, +I all forget when thee beholding,-- + Thou canst not think how sweet thou art. +Thy absence fills my soul with anguish, + Beloved one! hopeless of relief + I count the mournful hours in grief, +My heart for thee doth ceaseless languish,-- + Thou canst not think how sweet thou art! + + + + + + +TO MARY. + + +Vainly, Mary, dost thou pray me + Heedless of thy charms to live, +If thou'dst have me, fair, obey thee, + Thou another heart must give. + +One with stern indifference steeling, + That could know thee and be free, +One that all thy virtues feeling, + Could exist removed from thee. + +That in which thine image blooming, + Holds an empire all its own, +Which, though thou to grief art dooming, + Lives, fair maid, in thee alone; + +Every thought to thee addresses, + Filled by thee with visions bright, +Even 'midst sorrows, pains, distresses, + Thou'rt its comfort, hope, delight. + +I be faithless! love avowing, + To thee first I bent my knee, +Even with soul thy looks endowing, + First I knew _it_ knowing _thee_. + +Yes, my soul to thee returning, + Thine own gift do I restore, +Thou the offering proudly spurning, + I its charm can know no more. + +Do not bid me, hope resigning, + My fond vows of love to cease, +How can I, in silence pining, + Cruel fair one, mar thy peace? + + + + + + +N O T E. + + +Of the following translation of Derjavin's Ode to God, universally +esteemed as one of the sublimest effusions of the Russian Muse, I beg +leave to say that my aim has been to render it into English as literally +as the genius of our language would admit, without adding or suppressing a +single thought, or amplifying a single expression, to accomplish which +metrically would of course be impossible. + +If I have succeeded, my readers will be better able to judge whether this +Ode, after having been translated into the Japanese language, merited the +great honour of being suspended, embroidered with gold, in the temple of +Jeddo, than they can be by a perusal of the highly poetic effort of Dr. +Bowring. For, whilst he has adhered to the structure of versification +adopted in the original, and in some parts has given its sense with +remarkable accuracy, in others he has been less fortunate; and in +venturing to change the Trinitarian faith of Derjavin to suit his own +notions of the unity of the Supreme Being, he has taken a liberty with his +author which cannot but be deemed unwarrantable. + +THE TRANSLATOR. + + + + + + +TO GOD. + +BY DERJAVIN. + + +O! Thou, infinite in space, +Existing in the motion of matter, +Eternal amidst the mutations of time, +Without person, in three persons the Divinity! +The single and omnipresent spirit, +To whom there is neither place nor cause, +Whom none could ever comprehend, +Who fillest all things with thyself, +Embracest, animatest, and preservest them, +Thou whom we denominate God! + +Although a sublime mind might be able +To measure the depths of ocean, +To count the sands, the rays of the planets, +To thee there is neither number nor measure! +Enlightened spirits, although +Proceeding from thy light, +Cannot penetrate thy judgments; +Thought scarce dare lift itself to thee; +It is lost in thy greatness, +Like the past moment in eternity. + +Thou calledst chaos into existence, +Before time, from the abyss of eternity, +And eternity, existing prior to all ages, +Thou foundedst within thyself. +Constituting thyself of thyself, +By means of thyself shining from thyself, +Thou art the light from which light first flowed; +Creating all things by a single word, +Extending thyself throughout the new creation, +Thou wast, thou art, thou shalt be for ever! + +Thou unitest within thyself the chain of beings, +Upholdest and animatest it, +Thou connectest the end with the beginning, +And through death bestowest life. +As sparks shoot forth and scatter themselves, +Thus suns are born of thee: +As, in a cold and clear winter's day, +Particles of frost scintillate, +Whirl about, reel, and glisten,[1] +Even so do the stars in the abysses beneath thee! + +Millions of lighted torches +Fly throughout infinite space, +They execute thy laws, +And shed life-creating rays. +But these fiery luminaries, +Or shining masses of crystal, +Or crowds of boiling golden waves, +Or blazing ether, +Or all the dazzling worlds united-- +Compared to thee are like night compared to day. + +Like a drop of water cast into the ocean +Is this whole firmament compared to thee. +But what is the universe which I behold, +And who am I, in thy presence? +Were I to add to the millions of worlds +Existing in the ocean of air, +A hundred fold as many other worlds--and then +Dare to compare them to thee, +They would scarcely appear an atom, +And I compared to thee--nothing! + +Nothing! yet thou shinest in me +Through thy great goodness: +In me thou imagest thyself, +As the sun is reflected in a small drop of water. +Nothing! yet I am sensible of my existence, +By an indescribable longing I ascend +Steadfastly to a higher region: +My soul hopes to be even as thou, +It inquires, meditates, reasons; +I am, and doubtless thou must be. + +THOU ART! the order of nature proclaims it; +My heart declares it to be so, +My mind assures me of it. +Thou art! and I am not, therefore, nothing! +I am a particle of the whole universe, +Placed, as I think, in that important +Middle point of being, +Where thou finishedst mortal creatures, +Where thou began'st heavenly spirits, +And the chain of all beings unitedst by me. + +I am the bond of worlds existing everywhere; +I am the extreme grade of matter; +I am the centre of living things, +The commencing trait of the Divinity; +My body will resolve itself into ashes, +My mind commands the thunder. +I am a king, a slave, a worm, a god! +But, being thus wonderful, +From whence have I proceeded? This is unknown. +But I could not have existed of myself! + +I am thy work, Creator! +I am the creature of thy supreme wisdom, +Fountain of life, Giver of blessings, +Soul and monarch of my soul! +It was necessary to thy justice +That my immortal being +Should traverse the abyss of death, +That my spirit should be veiled in perishable matter, +And that through death I should return, +Father! to thy immortality! + +Inexplicable, incomprehensible Being! +I know that the imaginings +Of my soul are unable +Even to sketch thy shadow! +But, if it be our duty to praise thee, +Then it is impossible for weak mortals +Otherwise to render thee homage +Than, simply, to lift their hearts to thee, +To give way to boundless joy, +And shed tears of gratitude! + + +[1] The full beauty of this metaphor can only be felt by those who have +witnessed, in a high northern latitude during intensely cold and clear +weather, the state of the atmosphere which the poet describes. + +TRANSLATOR. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bakchesarian Fountain and Other +Poems, by Alexander Pushkin and other authors + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN *** + +This file should be named bakch10.txt or bakch10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, bakch11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, bakch10a.txt + +Produced by David Starner, Robert Connal +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/bakch10.zip b/old/bakch10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b216c54 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/bakch10.zip diff --git a/old/bakch10h.htm b/old/bakch10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ca6a165 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/bakch10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2090 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<title>The Bakchesarian Fountain</title> +<style type="text/css"> +<!-- +body {margin-left:5%; margin-right:10%;} +H1{Font-Family: Arial, Helvetica, Sans-Serif;Font-Size: 130%;Font-Weight: bold;} +H2{Font-Family: Arial, Helvetica, Sans-Serif;Font-Size: 120%;Font-Weight: bold;} +H3{Font-Family: Arial, Helvetica, Sans-Serif;Font-Size: 110%;Font-Weight: bold;Margin-Top: 6em} +P{Font-Family: Times, "Times New Roman", Serif;} +HR{Text-Align: left;width: 30%;} +.fnsuper{Font-Family: Times, "Times New Roman", Serif;Font-Size: 70%;Vertical-Align: top;} +.footnote{Font-Size: 90%;Margin-Left: 2em;} +.centered{Text-Align: center;} +.indent{Margin-Left: 2em;} +--> +</style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bakchesarian Fountain and Other Poems +by Alexander Pushkin and other authors + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: The Bakchesarian Fountain and Other Poems + +Author: Alexander Pushkin and other authors + +Release Date: May, 2005 [EBook #8192] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on June 30, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Robert Connal +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +</pre> + +<h1 class="centered">THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN.<br> +<br> +BY<br> +<br> +ALEXANDER POOSHKEEN.</h1> + +<p> </p> + +<p> </p> + +<h2 class="centered">AND OTHER POEMS, BY VARIOUS AUTHORS,<br> +</h2> + +<p> </p> + +<p> </p> + +<h2 class="centered">TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL RUSSIAN,<br> +<br> +BY<br> +<br> +WILLIAM D. LEWIS.</h2> + +<p> </p> + +<p> </p> + +<p>TO<br> +<br> +MY RUSSIAN FRIENDS,<br> +<br> +THE FOLLOWING EFFORT TO RENDER INTO THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE A +FAVOURITE POEM OF ONE OF THEIR MOST ADMIRED BARDS, AND SOME SHORTER +PRODUCTIONS OF OTHER RUSSIAN POETS, IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, AS A +SMALL TESTIMONIAL OF GRATITUDE FOR THE MANY KINDNESSES OF WHICH I +WAS THE OBJECT IN THEIR MOST HOSPITABLE COUNTRY, IN EARLY LIFE.</p> + +<p>THE TRANSLATOR.</p> + +<p>Philadelphia, July, 1849.</p> + +<h3>THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN.<br> +<br> +A TALE OF THE TAURIDE.</h3> + +<p>Mute sat Giray, with downcast eye,<br> + As though some spell in sorrow bound him,<br> + His slavish courtiers thronging nigh,<br> + In sad expectance stood around him.<br> + The lips of all had silence sealed,<br> + Whilst, bent on him, each look observant,<br> + Saw grief's deep trace and passion fervent<br> + Upon his gloomy brow revealed.<br> + But the proud Khan his dark eye raising,<br> + And on the courtiers fiercely gazing,<br> + Gave signal to them to begone!<br> + The chief, unwitnessed and alone,<br> + Now yields him to his bosom's smart,<br> + Deeper upon his brow severe<br> + Is traced the anguish of his heart;<br> + As full fraught clouds on mirrors clear<br> + Reflected terrible appear!<br> +</p> + +<p>What fills that haughty soul with pain?<br> + What thoughts such madd'ning tumults cause?<br> + With Russia plots he war again?<br> + Would he to Poland dictate laws?<br> + Say, is the sword of vengeance glancing?<br> + Does bold revolt claim nature's right?<br> + Do realms oppressed alarm excite?<br> + Or sabres of fierce foes advancing?<br> + Ah no! no more his proud steed prancing<br> + Beneath him guides the Khan to war,--<br> + Such thoughts his mind has banished far.<br> +</p> + +<p>Has treason scaled the harem's wall,<br> + Whose height might treason's self appal,<br> + And slavery's daughter fled his power,<br> + To yield her to the daring Giaour?<br> +</p> + +<p>No! pining in his harem sadly,<br> + No wife of his would act so madly;<br> + To wish or think they scarcely dare;<br> + By wretches, cold and heartless, guarded,<br> + Hope from each breast so long discarded;<br> + Treason could never enter there.<br> + Their beauties unto none revealed,<br> + They bloom within the harem's towers,<br> + As in a hot-house bloom the flowers<br> + Which erst perfumed Arabia's field.<br> + To them the days in sameness dreary,<br> + And months and years pass slow away,<br> + In solitude, of life grown weary,<br> + Well pleased they see their charms decay.<br> + Each day, alas! the past resembling,<br> + Time loiters through their halls and bowers;<br> + In idleness, and fear, and trembling,<br> + The captives pass their joyless hours.<br> + The youngest seek, indeed, reprieve<br> + Their hearts in striving to deceive<br> + Into oblivion of distress,<br> + By vain amusements, gorgeous dress,<br> + Or by the noise of living streams,<br> + In soft translucency meand'ring,<br> + To lose their thoughts in fancy's dreams,<br> + Through shady groves together wand'ring.<br> + But the vile eunuch too is there,<br> + In his base duty ever zealous,<br> + Escape is hopeless to the fair<br> + From ear so keen and eye so jealous.<br> + He ruled the harem, order reigned<br> + Eternal there; the trusted treasure<br> + He watched with loyalty unfeigned,<br> + His only law his chieftain's pleasure,<br> + Which as the Koran he maintained.<br> + His soul love's gentle flame derides,<br> + And like a statue he abides<br> + Hatred, contempt, reproaches, jests,<br> + Nor prayers relax his temper rigid,<br> + Nor timid sighs from tender breasts,<br> + To all alike the wretch is frigid.<br> + He knows how woman's sighs can melt,<br> + Freeman and bondman he had felt<br> + Her art in days when he was younger;<br> + Her silent tear, her suppliant look,<br> + Which once his heart confiding shook,<br> + Now move not,--he believes no longer!<br> +</p> + +<p>When, to relieve the noontide heat,<br> + The captives go their limbs to lave,<br> + And in sequestered, cool retreat<br> + Yield all their beauties to the wave,<br> + No stranger eye their charms may greet,<br> + But their strict guard is ever nigh,<br> + Viewing with unimpassioned eye<br> + These beauteous daughters of delight;<br> + He constant, even in gloom of night,<br> + Through the still harem cautious stealing,<br> + Silent, o'er carpet-covered floors,<br> + And gliding through half-opened doors,<br> + From couch to couch his pathway feeling,<br> + With envious and unwearied care<br> + Watching the unsuspecting fair;<br> + And whilst in sleep unguarded lying,<br> + Their slightest movement, breathing, sighing,<br> + He catches with devouring ear.<br> + O! curst that moment inauspicious<br> + Should some loved name in dreams be sighed,<br> + Or youth her unpermitted wishes<br> + To friendship venture to confide.<br> +</p> + +<hr> +<p>What pang is Giray's bosom tearing?<br> + Extinguished is his loved <em>chubouk</em>, <a name= +"fnr1"></a> <a href="#fn1" class="fnsuper">1</a><br> + Whilst or to move or breathe scarce daring,<br> + The eunuch watches every look;<br> + Quick as the chief, approaching near him,<br> + Beckons, the door is open thrown,<br> + And Giray wanders through his harem<br> + Where joy to him no more is known.<br> + Near to a fountain's lucid waters<br> + Captivity's unhappy daughters<br> + The Khan await, in fair array,<br> + Around on silken carpets crowded,<br> + Viewing, beneath a heaven unclouded,<br> + With childish joy the fishes play<br> + And o'er the marble cleave their way,<br> + Whose golden scales are brightly glancing,<br> + And on the mimic billows dancing.<br> + Now female slaves in rich attire<br> + Serve sherbet to the beauteous fair,<br> + Whilst plaintive strains from viewless choir<br> + Float sudden on the ambient air.<br> +</p> + +<p class = "indent">TARTAR SONG.</p> + +<p class = "indent">I.</p> + +<p class = "indent">Heaven visits man with days of sadness,<br> + Embitters oft his nights with tears;<br> + Blest is the Fakir who with gladness<br> + Views Mecca in declining years.<br> +</p> + +<p class = "indent">II.</p> + +<p class = "indent">Blest he who sees pale Death await him<br> + On Danube's ever glorious shore;<br> + The girls of Paradise shall greet him,<br> + And sorrows ne'er afflict him more.<br> +</p> + +<p class = "indent">III.</p> + +<p class = "indent">But he more blest, O beauteous Zarem!<br> + Who quits the world and all its woes,<br> + To clasp thy charms within the harem,<br> + Thou lovelier than the unplucked rose!<br> +</p> + +<p>They sing, but-where, alas! is Zarem,<br> + Love's star, the glory of the harem?<br> + Pallid and sad no praise she hears,<br> + Deaf to all sounds of joy her ears,<br> + Downcast with grief, her youthful form<br> + Yields like the palm tree to the storm,<br> + Fair Zarem's dreams of bliss are o'er,<br> + Her loved Giray loves her no more!<br> +</p> + +<p>He leaves thee! yet whose charms divine<br> + Can equal, fair Grusinian! thine?<br> + Shading thy brow, thy raven hair<br> + Its lily fairness makes more fair;<br> + Thine eyes of love appear more bright<br> + Than noonday's beam, more dark than night;<br> + Whose voice like thine can breathe of blisses,<br> + Filling the heart with soft desire?<br> + Like thine, ah! whose inflaming kisses<br> + Can kindle passion's wildest fire?<br> +</p> + +<p>Who that has felt thy twining arms<br> + Could quit them for another's charms?<br> + Yet cold, and passionless, and cruel,<br> + Giray can thy vast love despise,<br> + Passing the lonesome night in sighs<br> + Heaved for another; fiercer fuel<br> + Burns in his heart since the fair Pole<br> + Is placed within the chief's control.<br> +</p> + +<p>The young Maria recent war<br> + Had borne in conquest from afar;<br> + Not long her love-enkindling eyes<br> + Had gazed upon these foreign skies;<br> + Her aged father's boast and pride,<br> + She bloomed in beauty by his side;<br> + Each wish was granted ere expressed.<br> + She to his heart the object dearest,<br> + His sole desire to see her blessed;<br> + As when the skies from clouds are clearest,<br> + Still from her youthful heart to chase<br> + Her childish sorrows his endeavour,<br> + Hoping in after life that never<br> + Her woman's duties might efface<br> + Remembrance of her earlier hours,<br> + But oft that fancy would retrace<br> + Life's blissful spring-time decked in flowers.<br> + Her form a thousand charms unfolded,<br> + Her face by beauty's self was moulded,<br> + Her dark blue eyes were full of fire,--<br> + All nature's stores on her were lavished;<br> + The magic harp with soft desire,<br> + When touched by her, the senses ravished.<br> + Warriors and knights had sought in vain<br> + Maria's virgin heart to move,<br> + And many a youth in secret pain<br> + Pined for her in despairing love.<br> + But love she knew not, in her breast<br> + Tranquil it had not yet intruded,<br> + Her days in mirth, her nights in rest,<br> + In her paternal halls secluded,<br> + Passed heedless, peace her bosom's guest.<br> +</p> + +<p>That time is past! The Tartar's force<br> + Rushed like a torrent o'er her nation,--<br> + Rages less fierce the conflagration<br> + Devouring harvests in its course,--<br> + Poland it swept with devastation,<br> + Involving all in equal fate,<br> + The villages, once mirthful, vanished,<br> + From their red ruins joy was banished,<br> + The gorgeous palace desolate!<br> + Maria is the victor's prize;--<br> + Within the palace chapel laid,<br> + Slumb'ring among th'illustrious dead,<br> + In recent tomb her father lies;<br> + His ancestors repose around,<br> + Long freed from life and its alarms;<br> + With coronets and princely arms<br> + Bedecked their monuments abound!<br> + A base successor now holds sway,--<br> + Maria's natal halls his hand<br> + Tyrannic rules, and strikes dismay<br> + And wo throughout the ravaged land.<br> +</p> + +<p>Alas! the Princess sorrow's chalice<br> + Is fated to the dregs to drain,<br> + Immured in Bakchesaria's palace<br> + She sighs for liberty in vain;<br> + The Khan observes the maiden's pain,<br> + His heart is at her grief afflicted,<br> + His bosom strange emotions fill,<br> + And least of all Maria's will<br> + Is by the harem's laws restricted.<br> + The hateful guard, of all the dread,<br> + Learns silent to respect and fear her,<br> + His eye ne'er violates her bed,<br> + Nor day nor night he ventures near her;<br> + To her he dares not speak rebuke,<br> + Nor on her cast suspecting look.<br> + Her bath she sought by none attended,<br> + Except her chosen female slave,<br> + The Khan to her such freedom gave;<br> + But rarely he himself offended<br> + By visits, the desponding fair,<br> + Remotely lodged, none else intruded;<br> + It seemed as though some jewel rare,<br> + Something unearthly were secluded,<br> + And careful kept untroubled there.<br> +</p> + +<p>Within her chamber thus secure,<br> + By virtue guarded, chaste and pure,<br> + The lamp of faith, incessant burning,<br> + The VIRGIN'S image blest illumed,<br> + The comfort of the spirit mourning<br> + And trust of those to sorrow doomed.<br> + The holy symbol's face reflected<br> + The rays of hope in splendour bright,<br> + And the rapt soul by faith directed<br> + To regions of eternal light.<br> + Maria, near the VIRGIN kneeling,<br> + In silence gave her anguish way,<br> + Unnoticed by the crowd unfeeling,<br> + And whilst the rest, or sad or gay,<br> + Wasted in idleness the day,<br> + The sacred image still concealing,<br> + Before it pouring forth her prayer,<br> + She watched with ever jealous care;<br> + Even as our hearts to error given,<br> + Yet lighted by a spark from heaven,<br> + Howe'er from virtue's paths we swerve,<br> + One holy feeling still preserve.<br> +</p> + +<hr> +<p>Now night invests with black apparel<br> + Luxurious Tauride's verdant fields,<br> + Whilst her sweet notes from groves of laurel<br> + The plaintive Philomela yields.<br> + But soon night's glorious queen, advancing<br> + Through cloudless skies to the stars' song,<br> + Scatters the hills and dales along,<br> + The lustre of her rays entrancing.<br> + In Bakchesaria's streets roamed free<br> + The Tartars' wives in garb befitting,<br> + They like unprisoned shades were flitting<br> + From house to house their friends to see,<br> + And while the evening hours away<br> + In harmless sports or converse gay.<br> + The inmates of the harem slept;--<br> + Still was the palace, night impending<br> + O'er all her silent empire kept;<br> + The eunuch guard, no more offending<br> + The fair ones by his presence, now<br> + Slumbered, but fear his soul attending<br> + Troubled his rest and knit his brow;<br> + Suspicion kept his fancy waking,<br> + And on his mind incessant preyed,<br> + The air the slightest murmur breaking<br> + Assailed his ear with sounds of dread.<br> + Now, by some noise deceitful cheated,<br> + Starts from his sleep the timid slave,<br> + Listens to hear the noise repeated,<br> + But all is silent as the grave,<br> + Save where the fountains softly sounding<br> + Break from their marble prisons free,<br> + Or night's sweet birds the scene surrounding<br> + Pour forth their notes of melody:<br> + Long does he hearken to the strain,<br> + Then sinks fatigued in sleep again.<br> +</p> + +<p>Luxurious East! how soft thy nights,<br> + What magic through the soul they pour!<br> + How fruitful they of fond delights<br> + To those who Mahomet adore!<br> + What splendour in each house is found,<br> + Each garden seems enchanted ground;<br> + Within the harem's precincts quiet<br> + Beneath fair Luna's placid ray,<br> + When angry feelings cease to riot<br> + There love inspires with softer sway!<br> +</p> + +<hr> +<p>The women sleep;--but one is there<br> + Who sleeps not; goaded by despair<br> + Her couch she quits with dread intent,<br> + On awful errand is she bent;<br> + Breathless she through the door swift flying<br> + Passes unseen; her timid feet<br> + Scarce touch the floor, she glides so fleet.<br> + In doubtful slumber restless lying<br> + The eunuch thwarts the fair one's path,<br> + Ah! who can speak his bosom's wrath?<br> + False is the quiet sleep would throw<br> + Around that gray and care-worn brow;<br> + She like a spirit vanished by<br> + Viewless, unheard as her own sigh!<br> +</p> + +<hr> +<p>The door she reaches, trembling opes,<br> + Enters, and looks around with awe,<br> + What sorrows, anguish, terrors, hopes,<br> + Rushed through her heart at what she saw!<br> + The image of the sacred maid,<br> + The Christian's matron, reigning there,<br> + And cross attracted first the fair,<br> + By the dim lamp-light scarce displayed!<br> + Oh! Grusinka, of earlier days<br> + The vision burst upon thy soul,<br> + The tongue long silent uttered praise,<br> + The heart throbs high, but sin's control<br> + Cannot escape, 'tis passion, passion sways!<br> +</p> + +<p>The Princess in a maid's repose<br> + Slumbered, her cheek, tinged like the rose,<br> + By feverish thought, in beauty blooms,<br> + And the fresh tear that stains her face<br> + A smile of tenderness illumes.<br> + Thus cheers the moon fair Flora's race,<br> + When by the rain opprest they lie<br> + The charm and grief of every eye!<br> + It seemed as though an angel slept<br> + From heaven descended, who, distressed,<br> + Vented the feelings of his breast,<br> + And for the harem's inmates wept!<br> + Alas! poor Zarem, wretched fair,<br> + By anguish urged to mere despair,<br> + On bended knee, in tone subdued<br> + And melting strain, for pity sued.<br> +</p> + +<p> "Oh! spurn not such a suppliant's prayer!"<br> + Her tones so sad, her sighs so deep,<br> + Startled the Princess in her sleep;<br> + Wond'ring, she views with dread before her<br> + The stranger beauty, frighted hears<br> + For mercy her soft voice implore her,<br> + Raises her up with trembling hand,<br> + And makes of her the quick demand,<br> + "Who speaks? in night's still hour alone,<br> + Wherefore art here?" "A wretched one,<br> + To thee I come," the fair replied,<br> + "A suitor not to be denied;<br> + Hope, hope alone my soul sustains;<br> + Long have I happiness enjoyed,<br> + And lived from sorrow free and care,<br> + But now, alas! a prey to pains<br> + And terrors, Princess hear my prayer,<br> + Oh! listen, or I am destroyed!<br> +</p> + +<p>Not here beheld I first the light,<br> + Far hence my native land, but yet<br> + Alas! I never can forget<br> + Objects once precious to my sight;<br> + Well I remember towering mountains,<br> + Snow-ridged, replete with boiling fountains,<br> + Woods pervious scarce to wolf or deer,<br> + Nor faith, nor manners such as here;<br> + But, by what cruel fate o'ercome,<br> + How I was snatched, or when, from home<br> + I know not,--well the heaving ocean<br> + Do I remember, and its roar,<br> + But, ah! my heart such wild commotion<br> + As shakes it now ne'er felt before.<br> + I in the harem's quiet bloomed,<br> + Tranquil myself, waiting, alas!<br> + With willing heart what love had doomed;<br> + Its secret wishes came to pass:<br> + Giray his peaceful harem sought,<br> + For feats of war no longer burned,<br> + Nor, pleased, upon its horrors thought,<br> + To these fair scenes again returned.<br> +</p> + +<p>"Before the Khan with bosoms beating<br> + We stood, timid my eyes I raised,<br> + When suddenly our glances meeting,<br> + I drank in rapture as I gazed;<br> + He called me to him,--from that hour<br> + We lived in bliss beyond the power<br> + Of evil thought or wicked word,<br> + The tongue of calumny unheard,<br> + Suspicion, doubt, or jealous fear,<br> + Of weariness alike unknown,<br> + Princess, thou comest a captive here,<br> + And all my joys are overthrown,<br> + Giray with sinful passion burns,<br> + His soul possessed of thee alone,<br> + My tears and sighs the traitor spurns;<br> + No more his former thoughts, nor feeling<br> + For me now cherishes Giray,<br> + Scarce his disgust, alas! concealing,<br> + He from my presence hastes away.<br> + Princess, I know the fault not thine<br> + That Giray loves thee, oh! then hear<br> + A suppliant wretch, nor spurn her prayer!<br> +</p> + +<p> Throughout the harem none but thou<br> + Could rival beauties such as mine<br> + Nor make him violate his vow;<br> + Yet, Princess! in thy bosom cold<br> + The heart to mine left thus forlorn,<br> + The love I feel cannot be told,<br> + For passion, Princess, was I born.<br> + Yield me Giray then; with these tresses<br> + Oft have his wandering fingers played,<br> + My lips still glow with his caresses,<br> + Snatched as he sighed, and swore, and prayed,<br> + Oaths broken now so often plighted!<br> + Hearts mingled once now disunited!<br> + His treason I cannot survive;<br> + Thou seest I weep, I bend my knee,<br> + Ah! if to pity thou'rt alive,<br> + My former love restore to me.<br> + Reply not! thee I do not blame,<br> + Thy beauties have bewitched Giray,<br> + Blinded his heart to love and fame,<br> + Then yield him up to me, I pray,<br> + Or by contempt, repulse, or grief,<br> + Turn from thy love th'ungenerous chief!<br> + Swear by thy <em>faith</em>, for what though mine<br> + Conform now to the Koran's laws,<br> + Acknowledged here within the harem,<br> + Princess, my mother's faith was thine,<br> + By that faith swear to give to Zarem<br> + Giray unaltered, as he was!<br> + But listen! the sad prey to scorn<br> + If I must live, Princess, have care,<br> + A dagger still doth Zarem wear,--<br> + I near the Caucasus was born!"<br> +</p> + +<p>She spake, then sudden disappeared,<br> + And left the Princess in dismay,<br> + Who scarce knew what or why she feared;<br> + Such words of passion till that day<br> + She ne'er had heard. Alas! was she<br> + To be the ruthless chieftain's prey?<br> + Vain was all hope his grasp to flee.<br> + Oh! God, that in some dungeon's gloom<br> + Remote, forgotten, she had lain,<br> + Or that it were her blessed doom<br> + To 'scape dishonour, life, and pain!<br> + How would Maria with delight<br> + This world of wretchedness resign;<br> + Vanished of youth her visions bright,<br> + Abandoned she to fates malign!<br> + Sinless she to the world was given,<br> + And so remains, thus pure and fair,<br> + Her soul is called again to heaven,<br> + And angel joys await it there!<br> +</p> + +<hr> +<p>Days passed away; Maria slept<br> + Peaceful, no cares disturbed her, now,--<br> + From earth the orphan maid was swept.<br> + But who knew when, or where, or how?<br> + If prey to grief or pain she fell,<br> + If slain or heaven-struck, who can tell?<br> + She sleeps; her loss the chieftain grieves,<br> + And his neglected harem leaves,<br> + Flies from its tranquil precincts far,<br> + And with his Tartars takes the field,<br> + Fierce rushes mid the din of war,<br> + And brave the foe that does not yield,<br> + For mad despair hath nerved his arm,<br> + Though in his heart is grief concealed,<br> + With passion's hopeless transports warm.<br> + His blade he swings aloft in air<br> + And wildly brandishes, then low<br> + It falls, whilst he with pallid stare<br> + Gazes, and tears in torrents flow.<br> +</p> + +<p>His harem by the chief deserted,<br> + In foreign lands he warring roved,<br> + Long nor in wish nor thought reverted<br> + To scene once cherished and beloved.<br> + His women to the eunuch's rage<br> + Abandoned, pined and sank in age;<br> + The fair Grusinian now no more<br> + Yielded her soul to passion's power,<br> + Her fate was with Maria's blended,<br> + On the same night their sorrows ended;<br> + Seized by mute guards the hapless fair<br> + Into a deep abyss they threw,--<br> + If vast her crime, through love's despair,<br> + Her punishment was dreadful too!<br> +</p> + +<p>At length th'exhausted Khan returned,<br> + Enough of waste his sword had dealt,<br> + The Russian cot no longer burned,<br> + Nor Caucasus his fury felt.<br> + In token of Maria's loss<br> + A marble fountain he upreared<br> + In spot recluse;--the Christian's cross<br> + Upon the monument appeared,<br> + (Surmounting it a crescent bright,<br> + Emblem of ignorance and night!)<br> + Th'inscription mid the silent waste<br> + Not yet has time's rude hand effaced,<br> + Still do the gurgling waters pour<br> + Their streams dispensing sadness round,<br> + As mothers weep for sons no more,<br> + In never-ending sorrows drowned.<br> + In morn fair maids, (and twilight late,)<br> + Roam where this monument appears,<br> + And pitying poor Maria's fate<br> + Entitle it the FOUNT OF TEARS!<br> +</p> + +<hr> +<p>My native land abandoned long,<br> + I sought this realm of love and song.<br> + Through Bakchesaria's palace wandered,<br> + Upon its vanished greatness pondered;<br> + All silent now those spacious halls,<br> + And courts deserted, once so gay<br> + With feasters thronged within their walls,<br> + Carousing after battle fray.<br> + Even now each desolated room<br> + And ruined garden luxury breathes,<br> + The fountains play, the roses bloom,<br> + The vine unnoticed twines its wreaths,<br> + Gold glistens, shrubs exhale perfume.<br> + The shattered casements still are there<br> + Within which once, in days gone by,<br> + Their beads of amber chose the fair,<br> + And heaved the unregarded sigh;<br> + The cemetery there I found,<br> + Of conquering khans the last abode,<br> + Columns with marble turbans crowned<br> + Their resting-place the traveller showed,<br> + And seemed to speak fate's stern decree,<br> + "As they are now such all shall be!"<br> + Where now those chiefs? the harem where?<br> + Alas! how sad scene once so fair!<br> + Now breathless silence chains the air!<br> + But not of this my mind was full,<br> + The roses' breath, the fountains flowing,<br> + The sun's last beam its radiance throwing<br> + Around, all served my heart to lull<br> + Into forgetfulness, when lo!<br> + A maiden's shade, fairer than snow,<br> + Across the court swift winged its flight;--<br> + Whose shade, oh friends! then struck my sight?<br> + Whose beauteous image hovering near<br> + Filled me with wonder and with fear?<br> + Maria's form beheld I then?<br> + Or was it the unhappy Zarem,<br> + Who jealous thither came again<br> + To roam through the deserted harem?<br> + That tender look I cannot flee,<br> + Those charms still earthly still I see!<br> +</p> + +<hr> +<p>He who the muse and peace adores,<br> + Forgetting glory, love, and gold,<br> + Again thy ever flowery shores<br> + Soon, Salgir! joyful shall behold;<br> + The bard shall wind thy rocky ways<br> + Filled with fond sympathies, shall view<br> + Tauride's bright skies and waves of blue<br> + With greedy and enraptured gaze.<br> + Enchanting region! full of life<br> + Thy hills, thy woods, thy leaping streams,<br> + Ambered and rubied vines, all rife<br> + With pleasure, spot of fairy dreams!<br> + Valleys of verdure, fruits, and flowers,<br> + Cool waterfalls and fragrant bowers!<br> + All serve the traveller's heart to fill<br> + With joy as he in hour of morn<br> + By his accustomed steed is borne<br> + In safety o'er dell, rock, and hill,<br> + Whilst the rich herbage, bent with dews,<br> + Sparkles and rustles on the ground,<br> + As he his venturous path pursues<br> + Where AYOUDAHGA'S crags surround!<br> +</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="fn1"></a> <a href="#fnr1">[1]</a> A +Turkish pipe.</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p> </p> + +<h2>AMATORY AND OTHER POEMS,<br> +BY VARIOUS RUSSIAN AUTHORS.</h2> + +<p> </p> + +<p> </p> + +<p>[Several of the following translations were published +anonymously, many years since, in the "National Gazette," when +edited by Robert Walsh, Esq., and in the "Atlantic Souvenir," and +other periodicals.]</p> + +<p> </p> + +<p> </p> + +<h2>AMATORY AND OTHER POEMS.</h2> + +<h3>SONG.</h3> + +<p>I through gay and brilliant places<br> + Long my wayward course had bound,<br> + Oft had gazed on beauteous faces,<br> + But no loved one yet had found.<br> +</p> + +<p>Careless, onward did I saunter,<br> + Seeking no beloved to see,<br> + Rather dreading such encounter,<br> + Wishing ever to be free.<br> +</p> + +<p>Thus from all temptation fleeing,<br> + Hoped I long unchecked to rove,<br> + 'Till the fair Louisa seeing,--<br> + Who can see her, and not love?<br> +</p> + +<p>Sol, his splendid robes arrayed in,<br> + Just behind the hills was gone,<br> + When one eve I saw the maiden<br> + Tripping o'er the verdant lawn.<br> +</p> + +<p>Of a strange, tumultuous feeling,<br> + As I gazed I felt the sway,<br> + And, with brain on fire and reeling,<br> + Homeward quick I bent my way.<br> +</p> + +<p>Through my bosom rapid darting,<br> + Love 'twas plain I could not brave,<br> + And with boasted freedom parting,<br> + I became Louisa's slave.<br> +</p> + +<h3>THE HUSBAND'S LAMENT.<br> +<br> +BY P. PELSKY.</h3> + +<p>Parted now, alas! for ever<br> + From the object of my heart,<br> + Thus by cruel fate afflicted,<br> + Grief shall be my only part,<br> +</p> + +<p>I, bereft of her blest presence,<br> + Shall my life in anguish spend,<br> + Joy a stranger to my bosom,<br> + Wo with every thought shall blend.<br> +</p> + +<p>Double was my meed of pleasure<br> + When in it a share she bore,<br> + Of my pains, though keen and piercing,<br> + Viewing her I thought no more.<br> +</p> + +<p>All is past! and I, unhappy,<br> + Here on earth am left alone,<br> + All my transports now are vanished,<br> + Blissful hours! how swiftly flown.<br> +</p> + +<p>Vainly friends, with kind compassion,<br> + Me to calm my grief conjure,<br> + Vainly strive my heart to comfort,<br> + It the grave alone can cure.<br> +</p> + +<p>Fate one hope allows me only,<br> + Which allays my bosom's pain--<br> + Death our loving hearts divided,<br> + Death our hearts can join again!<br> +</p> + +<h3>COUNSEL.<br> +<br> +BY DMEETRIEFF.</h3> + +<p>Youth, those moments so entrancing,<br> + Spend in sports and pleasures gay,<br> + Mirth and singing, love and dancing,<br> + Like a shade thou'lt pass away!<br> +</p> + +<p>Nature points the way before us,<br> + Friends to her sweet voice give ear,<br> + Form the dances, raise the chorus,<br> + We but for an hour are here.<br> +</p> + +<p>Think the term of mirth and pleasure<br> + Comes no more when once gone by,<br> + Let us prize life's only treasure,<br> + Blest with love and jollity.<br> +</p> + +<p>And the bard all sorrows scorning,<br> + Who, though old, still joins your ring,<br> + With gay wreaths of flowers adorning<br> + Crown him that he still may sing.<br> +</p> + +<p>Youth, those moments so entrancing,<br> + Spend in sports and pleasures gay,<br> + Mirth and singing, love and dancing,<br> + Like a shade thou'lt pass away!<br> +</p> + +<h3>STANZAS.<br> +<br> +BY NELAIDINSKY.</h3> + +<p>He whose soul from sorrow dreary,<br> + Weak and wretched, nought can save,<br> + Who in sadness, sick and weary,<br> + Hopes no refuge but the grave;<br> + On his visage Pleasure beaming,<br> + Ne'er shall shed her placid ray,<br> + Till kind Fate, from wo redeeming,<br> + Leads him to his latest day.<br> +</p> + +<p>Thou this life preservest ever,<br> + My distress and my delight!<br> + And, though soul and body sever,<br> + Still I'll live a spirit bright;<br> + In my breast the heart that's kindled<br> + Death's dread strength can ne'er destroy,<br> + Sure the soul with thine that's mingled<br> + Must immortal life enjoy!<br> +</p> + +<p>That inspired by breath from heaven<br> + Need not shrink at mortal doom,<br> + To thee shall my vows be given<br> + In this world and that to come.<br> + My fond shade shall constant trace thee,<br> + And attend in friendly guise,<br> + Still surround thee, still embrace thee,<br> + Catch thy thoughts, thy looks, thy sighs.<br> +</p> + +<p>To divine its secret pondering,<br> + Close to clasp thy soul 'twill brave,<br> + And if chance shall find thee wandering<br> + Heedless near my silent grave,<br> + Even my ashes then shall tremble,<br> + Thy approach relume their fire,<br> + And that stone in dust shall crumble,<br> + Covering what can ne'er expire!<br> +</p> + +<h3>ODE TO THE WARRIORS OF THE DON.<br> +<br> +WRITTEN IN 1812, BY N.M. SHATROFF.</h3> + +<p>Sudden o'er Moscow rolls the dread thunder,<br> + Fierce o'er his proud borders Don's torrents flow,<br> + High swells each bosom, glowing with vengeance<br> + 'Gainst +the base foe.<br> +</p> + +<p>Scarce in loud accents spoke our good Monarch,<br> + "Soldiers of Russia! Moscow burns bright,<br> + Foemen destroy her,"--hundreds of thousands<br> + Rush +to the fight.<br> +</p> + +<p>"Who dare oppose God? who oppose Russians?"<br> + Cried the brave Hetman,--steeds round him tramp,--<br> + "The Frenchman's ashes quickly we'll scatter,<br> + Show +us his camp!<br> +</p> + +<p>"TSAR true-believing we are all ready,<br> + Thy throne's defenders, each proud heart bent<br> + By the assault th' invader's black projects<br> + To +circumvent.<br> +</p> + +<p>"Russians well know the rough road to glory,<br> + Rhine's banks by our troops soon shall be trod,<br> + We fight for vengeance, for love of country,<br> + And +faith in God!<br> +</p> + +<p>"BELIEVE and conquer, fear not for Russia,<br> + Awful the blow the cross-bearer strikes,<br> + Th'arkan <a name="fnr2"></a> <a href="#fn2" class="fnsuper">1</a> +is dreadful, the sword unsparing,<br> + Sharp +are our pikes.<br> +</p> + +<p>"Vain are Napoleon's skill, strength, and cunning,<br> + Nor do his hosts fill us with despair,<br> + For Michael <a name="fnr3"></a> <a href="#fn3" class= +"fnsuper">2</a> leads us, and Mary's <a name="fnr4"></a> <a href= +"#fn4" class="fnsuper">3</a> image<br> + With +us we bear.<br> +</p> + +<p>"To horse, brothers, haste, the foe approaches,<br> + Holy faith guides us, in God we trust,<br> + Quick, true believers, rush to the onset,<br> + God +aids the just!<br> +</p> + +<p>"Sternly rush on, friends, crush the vile Frenchman,<br> + Firm be as mountains when tempests blow,<br> + Oh! into Russia grant not the foul one<br> + +Further to go."<br> +</p> + +<p>Don, broad and mighty, poured forth her children,<br> + The world was amazed, pale with affright,<br> + Napoleon abandoned his fame, and sought<br> + +Safety in flight.<br> +</p> + +<p>On all sides alike pikes gleam around us,<br> + Through air hiss arrows, cannons bright flash,<br> + Bullets, like bees, in swarms fly terrific,<br> + +Mingling swords clash.<br> +</p> + +<p>Not half a million of fierce invaders<br> + Can meet the rage of Russia's attacks;<br> + Not more than they the timid deer shrinks at<br> + Sight +of Cossacks.<br> +</p> + +<p>O'er blood-drenched plains their red standards scattered,<br> + Their arms abandoned, spoils left behind:<br> + Death they now flee from, to loss of honour<br> + +Basely resigned.<br> +</p> + +<p>Vainly they shun it, fruitless their cunning,<br> + Jove's bird strikes down the blood-thirsty crow,<br> + The fame and bones of Frenchmen in Russia<br> + Alike +lie low.<br> +</p> + +<p>Thus th' ambitious usurper is vanquished,<br> + Thus his legions destroyed as they flee,<br> + Thus white-stoned Moscow, the first throned city,<br> + Once +more set free.<br> +</p> + +<p>To God, all potent, let thanks be rendered,<br> + Honoured our TSAR'S and each chieftain's name,<br> + To th'Empire safety, to Don's brave offspring<br> + +Laurels and fame!<br> +</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="fn2"></a> <a href="#fnr2">[1]</a> +Lasso.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="fn3"></a> <a href="#fnr3">[2]</a> +Kutuzoff.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="fn4"></a> <a href="#fnr4">[3]</a> The +Virgin.</p> + +<h3>SOLITUDE.<br> +<br> +BY MERZLIAKOFF.</h3> + +<p>Upon a hill, which rears itself midst plains extending wide,<br> + Fair flourishes a lofty OAK in beauty's blooming pride;<br> + This lofty oak in solitude its branches wide expands,<br> + All lonesome on the cheerless height like sentinel it stands.<br> + Whom can it lend its friendly shade, should Sol with fervour +glow?<br> + And who can shelter <em>it</em> from harm, should tempests rudely +blow?<br> + No bushes green, entwining close, here deck the neighbouring +ground,<br> + No tufted pines beside it grow, no osiers thrive around.<br> + Sad even to trees their cheerless fate in solitude if grown,<br> + And bitter, bitter is the lot for youth to live alone!<br> + Though gold and silver much is his, how vain the selfish +pride!<br> + Though crowned with glory's laurelled wreath, with whom that crown +divide?<br> + When I with an acquaintance meet he scarce a bow affords,<br> + And beauties, half saluting me, but grant some transient +words.<br> + On some I look myself with dread, whilst others from me fly,<br> + But sadder still the uncherished soul when Fate's dark hour draws +nigh;<br> + Oh! where my aching heart relieve when griefs assail me sore?<br> + My friend, who sleeps in the cold earth, comes to my aid no +more!<br> + No relatives, alas! of mine in this strange clime appear,<br> + No wife imparts love's fond caress, sweet smile, or pitying +tear;<br> + No father feels joy's thrilling throb, as he our transport +sees;<br> + No gay and sportive little ones come clambering on my knees;--<br> + Take back all honours, wealth, and fame, the heart they cannot +move,<br> + And give instead the smiles of friends, the tender look of +love!<br> +</p> + +<h3>TO MY ROSE.</h3> + +<p>Bright queen of flowers, O! Rose, gay blooming,<br> + How lovely are thy charms to me!<br> + Narcissus proud, pink unassuming,<br> + In beauty vainly vie with thee;<br> + When thou midst Flora's circle shinest,<br> + Each seems thy slave confessed to sigh,<br> + And thou, O! loveliest flower, divinest,<br> + Allur'st alone the passer's eye.<br> +</p> + +<p>To change thy fate the thought has struck me,<br> + Sweet Rose, in beauty, ah! how blest,<br> + For fair Eliza I will pluck thee,<br> + And thou shalt deck her virgin breast:--<br> + Yet, there thy beauties vainly shining,<br> + No more predominance will claim,<br> + To lilies, all thy pride resigning,<br> + Thou'lt yield without dispute thy fame.<br> +</p> + +<h3>TO CUPID.</h3> + +<p>Cupid, one arrow kindly spare,<br> + 'Twill yield me transport beyond measure,<br> + I'll not be mean, by heaven I swear,<br> + With Mary I'll divide the treasure.<br> +</p> + +<p>Thou wilt not?--Tyrant, now I see<br> + Thou lovest with grief my soul to harrow;<br> + To her thou'st given thy quiver--for me<br> + Thou hast not left a single arrow!<br> +</p> + +<h3>EVENING MEDITATIONS.</h3> + +<p>Nature in silence sank, and deep repose,<br> + Behind the mountain, Sol had ceased to glare,<br> + Timid the moon with modest lustre rose,<br> + Willing as though my misery to share.<br> + The past was quick presented to my mind,<br> + A gentle languor calmed each throbbing vein,<br> + My poor heart trembled as the leaves from wind,<br> + My melting soul owned melancholy's reign.<br> + Plain did each action of my life appear,<br> + Each feeling bade some fellow feeling start,<br> + On my parched bosom fell the flowing tear,<br> + And cooled the burning anguish of my heart.<br> + Moments of bliss, I cried, ah! whither flown?<br> + When Friendship breathed to me her soothing sighs,<br> + Twice have the fields with golden harvests shone,<br> + And still her blest return stern Fate denies!<br> + Cynthia, thou seest me lone my course pursue,<br> + Hopeless here roving, grief my only guide,<br> + Evenings long past thou call'st to Fancy's view,<br> + Forcing the tear down my pale cheek to glide.<br> + Friendless, of love bereft, what now my joy?<br> + Void are my heart and soul, a prey to pain,<br> + To love, to be beloved, can never cloy,<br> + But all on earth besides, alas! is vain!<br> +</p> + +<h3>THE LITTLE DOVE.<br> +<br> +BY DMETRIEFF.</h3> + +<p>The little dove, with heart of sadness,<br> + In silent pain sighs night and day,<br> + What now can wake that heart to gladness?<br> + His mate beloved is far away.<br> +</p> + +<p>He coos no more with soft caresses,<br> + No more is millet sought by him,<br> + The dove his lonesome state distresses,<br> + And tears his swimming eyeballs dim.<br> +</p> + +<p>From twig to twig now skips the lover,<br> + Filling the grove with accents kind,<br> + On all sides roams the harmless rover,<br> + Hoping his little friend to find.<br> +</p> + +<p>Ah! vain that hope his grief is tasting,<br> + Fate seems to scorn his faithful love,<br> + And imperceptibly is wasting,<br> + Wasting away, the little dove!<br> +</p> + +<p>At length upon the grass he threw him,<br> + Hid in his wing his beak and wept,<br> + There ceased his sorrows to pursue him,<br> + The little dove for ever slept.<br> +</p> + +<p>His mate, now sad abroad and grieving,<br> + Flies from a distance home again,<br> + Sits by her friend, with bosom heaving,<br> + And bids him wake with sorrowing pain.<br> +</p> + +<p>She sighs, she weeps, her spirits languish,<br> + Around and round the spot she goes,<br> + Ah! charming Chloe's lost in anguish,<br> + Her friend wakes not from his repose!<br> +</p> + +<h3>LAURA'S PRAYER.</h3> + +<p>As the harp's soft sighings in the silent valley,<br> + To high heaven reaching, lifts thy pious prayer,<br> + Laura, be tranquil! again with health shall nourish<br> + Thy +loved companion.<br> +</p> + +<p>O! ye gods, behold fair Laura sunk in anguish,<br> + Kneeling, O! behold her on the grassy hill,<br> + Mild evening's sportive zephyrs gently embracing<br> + Her +golden ringlets.<br> +</p> + +<p>Glist'ning with tears, her sad eyes to you she raises,<br> + Her fair bosom heaving like the swelling wave,<br> + Whilst in the solemn grove echo, clothed in darkness,<br> + +Repeats her accents.<br> +</p> + +<p>"O! gods, my friend beloved give again health's blessings,<br> + Faded are her cheeks now, dull her once bright eye,<br> + In her heart no pleasure,--killed by cruel sickness,<br> + As by +heat flowers.<br> +</p> + +<p>"But if your hard laws should bid her quit existence,<br> + Grant then my sad prayer, with her let me too die,"--<br> + Laura, be tranquil! thy friend thou'lt see reviving<br> + Like +spring's sweet roses.<br> +</p> + +<h3>THE STORM.<br> +<br> +BY DERJAVIN.</h3> + +<p>As my bark in restless ocean<br> + Mounts its rough and foaming hills,<br> + Whilst its waves in dark commotion<br> + Pass me, hope my bosom fills.<br> +</p> + +<p>Who, when warring clouds are gleaming,<br> + Quenches the destructive spark?<br> + Say what hand, where safety's beaming,<br> + Guides through rocks my little bark?<br> +</p> + +<p>Thou Creator! all o'erseeing,<br> + In this scene preserv'st me dread,<br> + Thou, without whose word decreeing<br> + Not a hair falls from my head.<br> +</p> + +<p>Thou in life hast doubly blest me,<br> + All my soul to thee's revealed,<br> + Thou amongst the great hast placed me,<br> + Be midst them my guide and shield!<br> +</p> + +<h3>TO MY HEART.</h3> + +<p>Why, poor heart, so ceaseless languish?<br> + Why with such distresses smart?<br> + Nought alleviates thy anguish,<br> + What afflicts thee so, poor heart?<br> +</p> + +<p>Heart, I comprehend not wrongly,<br> + Thou a captive art confest,<br> + Near Eliza thou beat'st strongly<br> + As thou'dst leap into her breast.<br> +</p> + +<p>Since 'tis so then, little throbber,<br> + You and I, alas! must part,<br> + I'd not be thy comfort's robber;<br> + To her I'll resign thee, heart.<br> +</p> + +<p>Yet the maid in compensation<br> + Must her own bestow on me,<br> + And with such remuneration<br> + Never shall I grieve for thee.<br> +</p> + +<p>But should she, thy sorrows spurning,<br> + This exchange, poor heart, deny,<br> + Then I'll bear thee, heart, though mourning,<br> + From her far and hasty fly.<br> +</p> + +<p>But, alas! no pain assuaging,<br> + That would but increase thy grief;<br> + If kind Death still not its raging,<br> + Granting thee a kind relief.<br> +</p> + +<h3>TIME.</h3> + +<p>O! Time, as thou on rapid wings<br> + Encirclest earth's extensive ball,<br> + Fatal thy flight to worldly things,<br> + Thy darts cut down and ruin all.<br> +</p> + +<p>A cloud from us thy form conceals;<br> + Enwrapt its gloomy folds among,<br> + Thou mov'st eternity's vast wheels,<br> + And with them movest us along.<br> +</p> + +<p>The swift-winged days thou urgest on,<br> + With them life's sand beholdest pass,<br> + And when our transient hours are gone,<br> + Thou smilest at their exhausted glass.<br> +</p> + +<p>Against Time's look, when he but frowns,<br> + All strength, and skill, and power, are vain;<br> + He withers laurels, wreaths, and crowns,<br> + And breaks the matrimonial chain.<br> +</p> + +<p>As Time moves onward, far and wide<br> + His restless scythe mows all away,<br> + All feels his breath, on every side<br> + All sinks, resistless, to decay.<br> +</p> + +<p>To youth's gay bloom and beauty's charms<br> + Mercy alike stern Time denies,<br> + Like vernal flowers o'erwhelmed by storms,<br> + Whate'er he looks at droops and dies.<br> +</p> + +<p>Huge piles from earth his mighty hand<br> + Sweeps to oblivion's empire dread,<br> + What villages, what cities grand,<br> + What kingdoms sink beneath his tread!<br> +</p> + +<p>Heroes in vain, his gauntlet cast,<br> + Oppose his stern and ruthless sway,<br> + Nor armies brave, nor mountains vast,<br> + Can thwart the devastator's way.<br> +</p> + +<p>Thought strives, but fruitless, to pursue<br> + The traces of Time's rapid flight,<br> + Scarce Fancy gains one transient view,<br> + He disappears and sinks in night.<br> +</p> + +<p>Think, thou whom folly's dazzling glare<br> + Of worldly vanities may blind,<br> + Time frowns and all will disappear,<br> + Nor gold a vestige leave behind.<br> +</p> + +<p>And thou whom fierce distresses sting,<br> + Thou by calamities low bowed,<br> + Weep not, for Time the day will bring<br> + That ranks the humble with the proud.<br> +</p> + +<p>But, Time, thy course of ruin stay,<br> + The lyre's sweet tones one moment hear,<br> + By thee o'er earth is spread dismay,<br> + Grief's sigh called forth, and pity's tear.<br> +</p> + +<p>Yet, Time, thy speed the dread decree<br> + Of retribution on thee brings,<br> + Eternity will swallow thee,<br> + Thy motion stop, and clip thy wings!<br> +</p> + +<h3>SONG.</h3> + +<p>Sweetly came the morning light,<br> + When fair Mary blest my sight,<br> + In her presence pleasures throng,<br> + Louder swelled the birds their song,<br> + +Pleasanter the day became.<br> +</p> + +<p>Not so radiant are Sol's rays,<br> + When on darkest clouds they blaze,<br> + As her look, so free from guile,<br> + As fair Mary's tender smile,<br> + As +the smile of my beloved.<br> +</p> + +<p>Not of dew the gems divine<br> + Shine as Mary's beauties shine,<br> + Not with hers the rose's dye<br> + On the fairest cheek can vie,<br> + None have +beauty like to hers.<br> +</p> + +<p>Mary's kiss as honey sweet,<br> + Pure as streamlet clear and fleet,<br> + Love inhabits her soft eyes,<br> + Floats in all her soothing sighs,<br> + Nought on earth so sweet +as she.<br> +</p> + +<p>Let us, Mary, now enjoy<br> + Nature's charms without alloy,<br> + Verdant lawn, and smiling grove;--<br> + Brooks that babble but of love<br> + Will +beside us softer flow.<br> +</p> + +<p>Let us seek the pleasant shade,<br> + Sit in bowers by us arrayed<br> + With gay flow'rets, where are heard<br> + Songs of many a pleasant bird,<br> + Which with rapture we +will join.<br> +</p> + +<p>In that sweet and lovely spot,<br> + All the cares of earth forgot,<br> + Thou, the comfort of my sight,<br> + Thou, my glory, my delight,<br> + Shalt my +soul to peace allure.<br> +</p> + +<h3>SONG.</h3> + +<p>The shades of spring's delicious even<br> + Invited all to soft repose,<br> + I only sighed to listening heaven<br> + In the still grove my bosom's woes.<br> +</p> + +<p>My heart's distress had Fate completed,<br> + Snatched from my sight my best beloved,<br> + And echo's busy voice repeated<br> + Sweet Mary's name where'er I roved.<br> +</p> + +<p>Without her sad the days and dreary,<br> + How cheerless drag life's moments on,<br> + Of pleasure's tumults sick and weary,<br> + All blissful thoughts for ever flown!<br> +</p> + +<p>But still to me more keen the anguish,<br> + With secret grief my heart must swell,<br> + That her for whom I ceaseless languish<br> + I dare not of my passion tell.<br> +</p> + +<p>No hope my cruel pain disarming,<br> + I live a prey to ceaseless wo,<br> + And Mary, sweet, and fair, and charming,<br> + How much I love her does not know.<br> +</p> + +<p>How shall I calm this bosom's raging?<br> + O! how alleviate its smart?<br> + Her tender look, all grief assuaging,<br> + Alone can cure my wounded heart.<br> +</p> + +<h3>SONG.</h3> + +<p>How blest am I thy charms enfolding,<br> + Cheerful thy smile as May's fair light,<br> + As Paradise thine eyes are bright,<br> + I all forget when thee beholding,--<br> + Thou canst not think how sweet thou art.<br> + Thy absence fills my soul with anguish,<br> + Beloved one! hopeless of relief<br> + I count the mournful hours in grief,<br> + My heart for thee doth ceaseless languish,--<br> + Thou canst not think how sweet thou art!<br> +</p> + +<h3>TO MARY.</h3> + +<p>Vainly, Mary, dost thou pray me<br> + Heedless of thy charms to live,<br> + If thou'dst have me, fair, obey thee,<br> + Thou another heart must give.<br> +</p> + +<p>One with stern indifference steeling,<br> + That could know thee and be free,<br> + One that all thy virtues feeling,<br> + Could exist removed from thee.<br> +</p> + +<p>That in which thine image blooming,<br> + Holds an empire all its own,<br> + Which, though thou to grief art dooming,<br> + Lives, fair maid, in thee alone;<br> +</p> + +<p>Every thought to thee addresses,<br> + Filled by thee with visions bright,<br> + Even 'midst sorrows, pains, distresses,<br> + Thou'rt its comfort, hope, delight.<br> +</p> + +<p>I be faithless! love avowing,<br> + To thee first I bent my knee,<br> + Even with soul thy looks endowing,<br> + First I knew <em>it</em> knowing <em>thee</em>.<br> +</p> + +<p>Yes, my soul to thee returning,<br> + Thine own gift do I restore,<br> + Thou the offering proudly spurning,<br> + I its charm can know no more.<br> +</p> + +<p>Do not bid me, hope resigning,<br> + My fond vows of love to cease,<br> + How can I, in silence pining,<br> + Cruel fair one, mar thy peace?<br> +</p> + +<h3>N O T E.</h3> + +<p>Of the following translation of Derjavin's Ode to God, +universally esteemed as one of the sublimest effusions of the +Russian Muse, I beg leave to say that my aim has been to render it +into English as literally as the genius of our language would +admit, without adding or suppressing a single thought, or +amplifying a single expression, to accomplish which metrically +would of course be impossible.</p> + +<p>If I have succeeded, my readers will be better able to judge +whether this Ode, after having been translated into the Japanese +language, merited the great honour of being suspended, embroidered +with gold, in the temple of Jeddo, than they can be by a perusal of +the highly poetic effort of Dr. Bowring. For, whilst he has adhered +to the structure of versification adopted in the original, and in +some parts has given its sense with remarkable accuracy, in others +he has been less fortunate; and in venturing to change the +Trinitarian faith of Derjavin to suit his own notions of the unity +of the Supreme Being, he has taken a liberty with his author which +cannot but be deemed unwarrantable.</p> + +<p>THE TRANSLATOR.</p> + +<h3>TO GOD.<br> +<br> +BY DERJAVIN.</h3> + +<p>O! Thou, infinite in space,<br> + Existing in the motion of matter,<br> + Eternal amidst the mutations of time,<br> + Without person, in three persons the Divinity!<br> + The single and omnipresent spirit,<br> + To whom there is neither place nor cause,<br> + Whom none could ever comprehend,<br> + Who fillest all things with thyself,<br> + Embracest, animatest, and preservest them,<br> + Thou whom we denominate God!<br> +</p> + +<p>Although a sublime mind might be able<br> + To measure the depths of ocean,<br> + To count the sands, the rays of the planets,<br> + To thee there is neither number nor measure!<br> + Enlightened spirits, although<br> + Proceeding from thy light,<br> + Cannot penetrate thy judgments;<br> + Thought scarce dare lift itself to thee;<br> + It is lost in thy greatness,<br> + Like the past moment in eternity.<br> +</p> + +<p>Thou calledst chaos into existence,<br> + Before time, from the abyss of eternity,<br> + And eternity, existing prior to all ages,<br> + Thou foundedst within thyself.<br> + Constituting thyself of thyself,<br> + By means of thyself shining from thyself,<br> + Thou art the light from which light first flowed;<br> + Creating all things by a single word,<br> + Extending thyself throughout the new creation,<br> + Thou wast, thou art, thou shalt be for ever!<br> +</p> + +<p>Thou unitest within thyself the chain of beings,<br> + Upholdest and animatest it,<br> + Thou connectest the end with the beginning,<br> + And through death bestowest life.<br> + As sparks shoot forth and scatter themselves,<br> + Thus suns are born of thee:<br> + As, in a cold and clear winter's day,<br> + Particles of frost scintillate,<br> + Whirl about, reel, and glisten, <a name="fnr5"></a> <a href="#fn5" +class="fnsuper">1</a><br> + Even so do the stars in the abysses beneath thee!<br> +</p> + +<p>Millions of lighted torches<br> + Fly throughout infinite space,<br> + They execute thy laws,<br> + And shed life-creating rays.<br> + But these fiery luminaries,<br> + Or shining masses of crystal,<br> + Or crowds of boiling golden waves,<br> + Or blazing ether,<br> + Or all the dazzling worlds united--<br> + Compared to thee are like night compared to day.<br> +</p> + +<p>Like a drop of water cast into the ocean<br> + Is this whole firmament compared to thee.<br> + But what is the universe which I behold,<br> + And who am I, in thy presence?<br> + Were I to add to the millions of worlds<br> + Existing in the ocean of air,<br> + A hundred fold as many other worlds--and then<br> + Dare to compare them to thee,<br> + They would scarcely appear an atom,<br> + And I compared to thee--nothing!<br> +</p> + +<p>Nothing! yet thou shinest in me<br> + Through thy great goodness:<br> + In me thou imagest thyself,<br> + As the sun is reflected in a small drop of water.<br> + Nothing! yet I am sensible of my existence,<br> + By an indescribable longing I ascend<br> + Steadfastly to a higher region:<br> + My soul hopes to be even as thou,<br> + It inquires, meditates, reasons;<br> + I am, and doubtless thou must be.<br> +</p> + +<p>THOU ART! the order of nature proclaims it;<br> + My heart declares it to be so,<br> + My mind assures me of it.<br> + Thou art! and I am not, therefore, nothing!<br> + I am a particle of the whole universe,<br> + Placed, as I think, in that important<br> + Middle point of being,<br> + Where thou finishedst mortal creatures,<br> + Where thou began'st heavenly spirits,<br> + And the chain of all beings unitedst by me.<br> +</p> + +<p>I am the bond of worlds existing everywhere;<br> + I am the extreme grade of matter;<br> + I am the centre of living things,<br> + The commencing trait of the Divinity;<br> + My body will resolve itself into ashes,<br> + My mind commands the thunder.<br> + I am a king, a slave, a worm, a god!<br> + But, being thus wonderful,<br> + From whence have I proceeded? This is unknown.<br> + But I could not have existed of myself!<br> +</p> + +<p>I am thy work, Creator!<br> + I am the creature of thy supreme wisdom,<br> + Fountain of life, Giver of blessings,<br> + Soul and monarch of my soul!<br> + It was necessary to thy justice<br> + That my immortal being<br> + Should traverse the abyss of death,<br> + That my spirit should be veiled in perishable matter,<br> + And that through death I should return,<br> + Father! to thy immortality!<br> +</p> + +<p>Inexplicable, incomprehensible Being!<br> + I know that the imaginings<br> + Of my soul are unable<br> + Even to sketch thy shadow!<br> + But, if it be our duty to praise thee,<br> + Then it is impossible for weak mortals<br> + Otherwise to render thee homage<br> + Than, simply, to lift their hearts to thee,<br> + To give way to boundless joy,<br> + And shed tears of gratitude!<br> +</p> + +<p class="footnote"><a name="fn5"></a> <a href="#fnr5">[1]</a> The +full beauty of this metaphor can only be felt by those who have +witnessed, in a high northern latitude during intensely cold and +clear weather, the state of the atmosphere which the poet +describes.</p> + +<p> </p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Bakchesarian Fountain and Other +Poems, by Alexander Pushkin and other authors + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BAKCHESARIAN FOUNTAIN *** + +This file should be named bakch10h.htm or bakch10h.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, bakch11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, bakch10ah.htm + +Produced by David Starner, Robert Connal +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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