“ There roar the Aragua's blue sparkling waters,
And lurketh the bandit safe hid in lone caverns,
Where Terek, wild sporting, is cutting the azure!
It leaps and it howls like some ravening beast
At first sight of feeding, through grating of iron—
It roars on the shore with a furious purring,
It licks on the pebbles with eagerest greed.
Vain struggle and rancor and hatred, alas!
'Tis enchained and subdued by the unheeding mass.
PUSHKIN. THE CLOISTER ON KASBEK KASBEK, thy regal canopy
High o'er all peaks revealed I see
By an eternal icy glare. ”

“ LERMONTOFF. ON DEPARTURE FOR THE CAUCAS Farewell my hateful Russian country!
People of lord and serf you are—
Farewell, salute, bent knee and hand-kiss,
Three-masters, uniform and star!
Soon will the Caucas now conceal me,
There I shall not discovered be
By eyes and ears of paid, false sergeants—
Who all do hear and all do see!
LERMONTOFF. TO THE CLOUDS Clouds—ye eternal wanderers in hunting grounds of air,
High o'er the verdant Steppes, wide through the blue of heaven—
Coursing fraternal,—say, must ye exiled as I
From the beloved North to the far South be driven? ”

“ As May rain o'er the pasture flings!
Lifted from passion's melancholy
The life breaks forth in fairer flower,
The soul receives a new enrichment—
Fruition sweet and full of power.
But when on later altars arid
It downward sweeps, about us flows—
Love leaves behind such deathly traces
As Autumn tempests where it blows
To strip the woods with ruthless hand,
And turn to soggy waste the land!
PUSHKIN. FROM "ONEGIN" How sad to me is thine appearing,
O Springtime, hour of love's unrest!
Within the soul what nameless languors!
What passions hid within the breast! ”

“ And his azure waves
High the ocean lifts,
On his cold blue breast
Now an iceberg drifts.
And as leaping flame
Burn the Northern lights,
On the darkness gleam
Through the silent nights.
Even so art thou,
Russian realm, become,—
Thou my native land,
Shield of Christendom!
Far away hast thou,
Throughout lands untold,
In thy glory fair,
Russia, been enrolled!
Art thou not in space
E'en o'er well supplied?
Where a spirit bold
Freely wanders wide! ”

“ O Muse, pursue the calling of thy Gods forever!
Strive not for the garland, nor look upon the pain—
Unmoved support the voice of scorn or of laudation,
And argument with Fools disdain!
PUSHKIN. The Alexander column, standing before the Winter Palace at St. Petersburg, is a monolith eighty feet high; with the pedestal measuring one hundred and fifty feet.
TAMARA Where waves of the Terek are waltzing
In Dariel's wickedest pass,
There rises from bleakest of storm crags
An ancient grey towering mass. ”

“ PUSHKIN. The valley of the Don is the home of the Russian Cossack.
THE CAUCAS The Caucas lies before my feet! I stand where
Glaciers gleam, beside a precipice rock-ribbed;
An eagle that has soared from off some distant cliff,
Lawless as I, sweeps through the radiant air! ”

“ PUSHKIN. UNDER A PORTRAIT OF JUKOWSKY The charm and sweetness of his magic verse
Will mock the envious years for centuries!
Since youth, on hearing them, for glory burns,
The wordless sorrow comfort in them sees,
And careless joy to wistful musing turns.
PUSHKIN. Jukowsky was a Russian poet. ”

“ From his father he inherited the love of brilliant society, from his mother the love of music and an unusually sensitive temperament. When he was but two and a half years old his mother died and he became the idol of his grandmother, by whom he was spoiled, until the wilfulness of youth became the arrogance and domineering quality so distinguishing his maturity. ”

“ Another long forgotten Springtime—
And trembling neath this pang supreme,
The heart faints for a distant country
And for a night beside the sea!
PUSHKIN. THE MEMORIAL Beyond compare the monument I have erected,
And to this spirit column well-worn the people's path,—
Its head defiant will out-soar that famous pillar
The Emperor Alexander hath!
I shall not vanish wholly,—No! but young forever
My spirit will live on, within my lyre will ring,
And men within this world shall hold me in remembrance
While yet one Singer lives to sing. ”

“ The translations in this little collection make no pretension to being more than an effort to share the delight found in them; from which most of the world is debarred by the difficulty of the language in which they are written. They have been chosen at random, each for some intrinsic charm or because of its bearing upon some peculiar phase of the author. Very few of the lyrics of Pushkin have been included, for the reason that the great founder of Russian poetry has been more widely translated than any other Russian poet, and is therefore available in several languages. ”

“ Life looks to me worthy and bright,
And I feel inspiration and power—
And again love and tears and the light!
PUSHKIN. I LOVED THEE I loved thee; and perchance until this moment
Within my breast is smouldering still the fire! ”

“ LERMONTOFF. TO KASBEK With wingéd footsteps now I hasten
Unto the far cold North away,
Kasbek,—thou watchman of the East,
To thee, my farewell greetings say!
Since all eternity, a turban
Snow white, thy glorious brow has veiled,
The peace sublime about thy glacier
The strife of man has ne'er assailed. ”

“ For joy sobbed the nightingale.
And every tear found consoling—
A greeting from near and from far,
The garden was lit by a glow worm,
Enraptured the heavens a star!
NADSON. THE OLD GREY HOUSE Thou hospitable old grey house,—A greeting unto thee!
With thy red ochre roofs,—vine trellised o'er;
The gardens fair laid forth in blooming luxury,
The fields in glinting beads of dew stretched endlessly,
Beneath the sun's fresh kiss a gilded floor! ”

“ And only the Terek bewailing
With fury broke in on the hush,
As dashing her billows on billows
Her writhing floods onward did rush.
A youth's form her currents are bearing,
Ah vainly they murmur and swell!
A woman, a pale and a fair one—
Cries down from her tower "Farewell!"
Her voice has the sound of faint weeping,
So amorous, tender and sweet—
As if she in love's holy rapture
Did promise of meeting repeat!
LERMONTOFF. [Tamara is the Russian Lorelei. The ruins of her castle are still shown in the pass of Darjal on the famous Georgian Road.] ”

“ Rejoicing thrills within the breast of Mother Earth anew—
From her once more the flowers push forth 'mid gleaming drops of dew,
And like the Swans, across my soul my dreams will lightly sweep,
And my heart blissful throbbing, ghostly tears of rapture weep.
O Spring I feel thy coming! And behold Thee, Poesy!
MAIKOW. TO SLEEP When shadows pale are sinking in hues the twilight weaves,
Upon the golden grain fields of gleaming wheaten sheaves—
Upon the emerald pastures and blue of forests deep,
When the soft mists of silver o'er the sea doth creep ”

“ From the age of sixteen he had always written poetry, but not until 1855 did he begin to publish his lyrics and epics in the journals. His passion for poetry was extended toward all other forms of art. At thirteen years of age he made his first journey through Italy,—to Milan, Venice, Florence, Rome and Naples, and his soul grew large with enthusiasm for every manifestation of beauty, so that upon his return to Russia he was really homesick for Italy. ”

“ At the age of six weeks he was taken away from the city to Little-Russia, by his mother and maternal uncle, who was distinguished in Russian literature under the pseudonym of Anton Perowskij. By this uncle he was brought up, enjoying a singularly happy and unclouded childhood. Being an only child he played much alone, living in his dreams and imagination and early developing a love for poetry. At the age of eight or nine years he was taken by his parents to Petersburg where he was presented to the heir to the throne, and allowed to play with his children. ”

“ His father's business failed, the house was turned into an inn and Ivan, instead of attending the University, as he had expected, was obliged to sell candles, not only in his father's shop, but as that was soon taken from him, even in the market place. After a few months his mother died and his father sacrificed his last remaining possessions for drink. He insulted and even attacked his son, bidding him leave his house, and the poor boy was compelled to render the most menial service to all. For ten long years this condition lasted, yet Ivan remained a poet! ”

“ And where the azure river's currents roam.
Prattling, the river lisps of love and of repose—
And in the distance shimmers, faintly dies;
A flower, secret listening as its message flows,
A roguish kiss of gratitude in fragrance blows,
While beckoning stars smile from the silent skies. ”

“ MAIKOW. AN EASTER GREETING The lark at sunrise trills it high—
The greeting Christ is risen!
And through the wood the black-bird pipes
The greeting Christ is risen!
Beneath the eaves the swallows cry
The greeting Christ is risen!
Throughout the world man's heart proclaims
The greeting Christ is risen!
And echo answers from the grave
In truth, yes, He is risen!
MAIKOW. AT EASTER Drawing near the Easter Sunday
With the Easter-greeting kiss ”

“ Although he retained his entire sympathy with the poetic brotherhood, he now frequented the salons of the titled aristocracy and gave himself up to the vortex of luxurious society. Because of his political satires and too free opposition to the government, he was sent away from Petersburg in 1820, and attached to the Governor of the South Russian Colonies. Here he fell ill and went to the Caucas for recovery. It was in the Crimea that he learned to know and wonder over Byron. He remained three years in Kischinew,—in the service chiefly of wine, women and cards. ”

“ NADSON. CALL HIM NOT DEAD Call him not dead,—he lives!
Ah you forget
Though the pyre lies in ruin the fires upward sweep,
The string of the harp is broken but her chords still weep,
The rose is cut but it is blooming yet!
NADSON. BRIEF BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES ALEXANDER SERGJEWITSCH PUSHKIN was born at Moscow, May 26, 1799. His first poetical influence came from his nurse who taught him Russian tales, legends and proverbs, and to whom, with loving recognition, he was grateful to the end of his life. His grandmother and this nurse taught him to read and write. ”

“ In 1830 he was matriculated by the Moscow University as a student of moral and political science. In 1832 he went to what is now the Nicolai Military school in Petersburg, where he wrote his censurable and erotic poems that were passed about by thousands and won an immense popularity with the jeunesse doré of the time, but which were regarded as discreditable by the more serious and thoughtful society. In November, 1832, he was appointed Second Lieutenant in the Life Guard Hussar regiment, and the young poet now plunged into the vortex of society life as Pushkin had before him. ”

“ SEMIJON JAKOLOWITSCH NADSON was born at Petersburg, December 26, 1862. On his father's side he was of Hebrew extraction. His grandfather had formerly embraced the orthodox faith, and his father, from whom he inherited his musical talent, died in an asylum, in the extreme youth of the poet. His mother, after contracting a second marriage, which ended unhappily, died at the age of thirty-one, of consumption. The boy learned to read and write at the age of four, from an old servant. ”

“ Hid in earth's dark breast
Golden treasures lie.
And to East and West,
To the South and North—
Flies thy louder fame
Through the wide world forth!
Holy Russia, thou
Dost deserve to be
"Mother" called by all,
In our love to thee!
For thy glory fair
We should face the foe,
And thy freedom guarding
Glad our lives bestow!
NIKITIN. THE SONG OP THE SPENDTHRIFT To seven kopek the heir,
Nor house nor land have I—
Live I—hey! I live then!
Die I—hey! I die! ”

“ In November he bequeathed all he had written to the literary fund; whose Nadson capital now amounts to more than two hundred thousand roubles from the sale of his works. He died in January, 1889. His body was brought to Petersburg and interred with public honors. His grave, which is near other celebrated Russian writers, is adorned by a bust from the hand of the famous sculptor Antokolsky. His poetry enjoys a popularity beyond that of any one poet in Russian, and has been carried to the eighteenth edition of one hundred and twenty thousand volumes each. ”

“ And glad the forest hears
My pipe and song alway.
If one must bitter weep—
No man will see his tears,
If sadly bowed his head—
None save the partridge jeers.
If weary one, or not,
What matters anything? ”

“ In 1823 he went to Odessa as attaché of the General Governor Count Woronzow, whom he pursued with biting epigram,—until in 1824 the poet of "Russlan and Ludimilla" was removed from the service and banished to his mother's estates by order of the Tsar Alexander I.
These two years of unwilling retirement worked mightily upon the soul of Pushkin so filled with storm and stress. He struck off the chains of Byron and steeped himself in Shakespeare ”