Excerpt
THE SONG OF THE KAZAK
Kazak speeds ever toward the North, Kazak has never heart for rest,Not on the field, nor in the wood, Nor when in face of danger pressedHis steed the raging stream must breast!
Kazak speeds ever toward the North,With him a mighty power brings,To win the honour of his land Kazak his life unheeding flings—Till fame of him eternal sings!
Kazak brought all SiberiaAt foot of Russia's throne to lie,Kazak left glory in the Alps, His name the Turk can terrify,His flag he ever carries high!
Kazak speeds ever toward the North,Kazak has never heart for rest,Not on the field, nor in the wood, Nor when in face of danger pressedHis steed the raging stream must breast!
PUSHKIN.The accent in singing falls sharply on the second half—Kazák.
CRADLE SONG OF A COSSACK MOTHERSlumber sweet, my fairest baby, Slumber calmly, sleep—Peaceful moonbeams light thy chamber, In thy cradle creep;I will tell to thee a story, Pure as dewdrop glow,Close those two beloved eyelids— Lullaby, By-low!
List! The Terek o'er its pebbles Blusters through the vale,On its shores the little Khirgez Whets his murdrous blade;Yet thy father grey in battle— Guards thee, child of woe,Safely rest thee in thy cradle, Lullaby, By-low!
Grievous times will sure befall thee, Danger, slaughterous fire—Thou shalt on a charger gallop, Curbing at desire;And a saddle girth all silken Sadly I will sew,Slumber now my wide-eyed darling, Lullaby, By-low!
When I see thee, my own Being, As a Cossack true,Must I only convoy give thee— "Mother dear, adieu!"Nightly in the empty chamber Blinding tears will flow,Sleep my angel, sweetest dear one, Lullaby, By-low!
Thy return I'll wait lamenting As the days go by,Ardent for thee praying,—fearing In the cards to spy.I shall fancy thou wilt suffer, As a stranger grow—Sleep while yet thou nought regrettest, Lullaby, By-low!
I will send a holy image 'Gainst the foe with thee,To it kneeling, dearest Being, Pray with piety!Think of me in bloody battle, Dearest child of woe,Slumber soft within thy cradle, Lullaby, By-low!
LERMONTOFF. THE DAGGERI love thee dagger mine, thou sure defence— I love the beauty of thy glitter cold,A brooding Georgian whetted thee for war, Forged for revenge thou wert by Khirgez bold.
A lily hand, in parting's silent woe, Gave thee to me in morning's twilight shade;Instead of blood, I saw thee first be-dewed With sorrow's tear-pearls flowing o'er thy blade.
Two dusky eyes so true and pure of soul, Mute in the throe of love's mysterious pain—Like thine own steel within the fire's glow, Flashed forth to me—then faded dull again.
For a soul-pledge thou wert by love appointed, In my life's night to guide me to my end;Stedfast and true my heart shall be forever, Like thee, like thee, my steely hearted friend!
LERMONTOFF....