Who shall the counsels of the sea,
Its awe sublime unloose?  Who shall
Read clear my spirit and my soul? 
Unless it be a Poet—­no man!

LERMONTOFF.

LIKE AN EVIL SPIRIT

Like an evil spirit hast thou
  Shocked my heart from out its rest,
If thou’lt take it quite away now—­
  Thou wilt win my healing blest!

My heart thy temple evermore! 
  Thy face,—­the altar’s Godhead sign! 
Not heaven’s grace,—­thy smiles, restore,
  Grant absolution, joy divine!

LERMONTOFF.

TO A.C.S.

Afar—­I fain, so much would tell thee! 
List to thee o’er and o’er when near;
Yet passioned glances thou dost silence—­
My words bind to my lips in fear. 
How, by mere homely speaking, can I
E’en hope to captivate thine ears? 
I swear it would be food for laughter—­
If it were not more fit for tears!

LERMONTOFF.

A SONG

Dry leaf trembling on the branches
  Before the blast,
Poor heart quaking in the bosom
  For woe thou hast;
Ah what matter if the wind then,
  Withered leaf from blooming linden
Should scatter wide? 
  Would for this the twig or branches
    Have wailing sighed? 
And should the lad his fate upbraid,
  Although he ignominious fade—­
And in an alien country die? 
  Will for him the beauteous maid
    Complaining cry?

LERMONTOFF.

FROM “DEMON”

Sailless and without a rudder,
  On the ocean of the air—­
Float the choirs of stars harmonious,
  ’Mid the mists eternal there;
Fleecy flocks of clouds elusive
  Drift across immensity,
Leaving ne’er a track behind them,
  Following their destiny. 
Hour of parting, hour of meeting
  They know not,—­nor grief, nor rest—­
Theirs no longing for the future,
  Theirs no sorrow for the past. 
By thy day of anguish broken,
  Think of them and calm thy woe—­
Be indifferent as they are
  To the pangs of earth below!

LERMONTOFF.

THE PRAYER

When faints the heart for sorrow,
  In life’s hard, darkened hour,
My spirit breathes a wondrous prayer
  Full of love’s inward power.

There is a might inspiring
  Each consecrated word,
That speaks the inconceivable
  And holy will of God.

The heavy load slips from my heart—­
  Oppressing doubt takes flight,
The soul believes, the tears break forth—­
  And all is light, so light!

LERMONTOFF.

THE PALM BRANCH OF PALESTINE

Palm branch of Palestine, oh tell me,
  In that far distant home-land fair,
Wast rooted in the mountain gravel
  Or sprung from some vale garden rare?