No More Learning

[Note 41: Hippolyte Bogdanovitch--b. 1743, d. 1803--though
possessing considerable poetical talent was like many other
Russian authors more remarkable for successful imitation
than for original genius. His most remarkable production
is "Doushenka," "The Darling," a composition somewhat in
the style of La Fontaine's "Psyche. " Its merit consists in
graceful phraseology, and a strong pervading sense of humour. ]

[Note 42: Parny--a French poet of the era of the first Napoleon,
b. 1753, d. 1814. Introduced to the aged Voltaire during
his last visit to Paris, the patriarch laid his hands upon
the youth's head and exclaimed: "Mon cher Tibulle. " He is
chiefly known for his erotic poetry which attracted the
affectionate regard of the youthful Pushkin when a student
at the Lyceum. We regret to add that, having accepted a
pension from Napoleon, Parny forthwith proceeded to damage
his literary reputation by inditing an "epic" poem entitled
"Goddam! Goddam! par un French--Dog. " It is descriptive
of the approaching conquest of Britain by Napoleon, and
treats the embryo enterprise as if already conducted to a
successful conclusion and become matter of history. A good
account of the bard and his creations will be found in the
_Saturday Review_ of the 2d August 1879.
]

XXXII

Bard of the "Feasts," and mournful breast,(43)
If thou wert sitting by my side,
With this immoderate request
I should alarm our friendship tried:
In one of thine enchanting lays
To russify the foreign phrase
Of my impassioned heroine.
Where art thou? Come! pretensions mine
I yield with a low reverence;
But lonely beneath Finnish skies
Where melancholy rocks arise
He wanders in his indolence;
Careless of fame his spirit high
Hears not my importunity!

[Note 43: Evgeny Baratynski, a contemporary of Pushkin and a
lyric poet of some originality and talent. The "Feasts" is
a short brilliant poem in praise of conviviality. Pushkin
is therein praised as the best of companions "beside the
bottle. "]

XXXIII

Tattiana's letter I possess,
I guard it as a holy thing,
And though I read it with distress,
I'm o'er it ever pondering.
Inspired by whom this tenderness,
This gentle daring who could guess?
Who this soft nonsense could impart,
Imprudent prattle of the heart,
Attractive in its banefulness?
I cannot understand. But lo!
A feeble version read below,
A print without the picture's grace,
Or, as it were, the Freischutz' score
Strummed by a timid schoolgirl o'er.


Tattiana's Letter to Oneguine

I write to you! Is more required?
Can lower depths beyond remain?