No More Learning

Behold, my sobs I scarce restrain--"
"My darling child, thou art in pain. --
The Lord deliver her and save!
Tell me at once what wilt thou have?
I'll sprinkle thee with holy water. --
How thy hands burn! "--"Dear nurse, I'm well.
I am--in love--you know--don't tell! "
"The Lord be with thee, O my daughter! "--
And the old nurse a brief prayer said
And crossed with trembling hand the maid.

XX

"I am in love," her whispers tell
The aged woman in her woe:
"My heart's delight, thou art not well. "--
"I am in love, nurse! leave me now. "
Behold! the moon was shining bright
And showed with an uncertain light
Tattiana's beauty, pale with care,
Her tears and her dishevelled hair;
And on the footstool sitting down
Beside our youthful heroine fair,
A kerchief round her silver hair
The aged nurse in ample gown,(37)
Whilst all creation seemed to dream
Enchanted by the moon's pale beam.

[Note 37: It is thus that I am compelled to render a female
garment not known, so far as I am aware, to Western Europe.
It is called by the natives "doushegreika," that is to say,
"warmer of the soul"--in French, chaufferette de l'ame. It
is a species of thick pelisse worn over the "sarafan," or
gown. ]

XXI

But borne in spirit far away
Tattiana gazes on the moon,
And starting suddenly doth say:
"Nurse, leave me. I would be alone.
Pen, paper bring: the table too
Draw near. I soon to sleep shall go--
Good-night. " Behold! she is alone!
'Tis silent--on her shines the moon--
Upon her elbow she reclines,
And Eugene ever in her soul
Indites an inconsiderate scroll
Wherein love innocently pines.
Now it is ready to be sent--
For whom, Tattiana, is it meant?

XXII

I have known beauties cold and raw
As Winter in their purity,
Striking the intellect with awe
By dull insensibility,
And I admired their common sense
And natural benevolence,
But, I acknowledge, from them fled;
For on their brows I trembling read
The inscription o'er the gates of Hell
"Abandon hope for ever here! "(38)
Love to inspire doth woe appear
To such--delightful to repel.
Perchance upon the Neva e'en
Similar dames ye may have seen.

[Note 38: A Russian annotator complains that the poet has
mutilated Dante's famous line. ]

XXIII

Amid submissive herds of men
Virgins miraculous I see,
Who selfishly unmoved remain
Alike by sighs and flattery.
But what astonished do I find
When harsh demeanour hath consigned
A timid love to banishment?