I mourn a Russian maid’s disdain!
With graceful arm I rein the steed,
Unmatched in courage as in speed
I skim the ice; and dextrous wield
The dripping oar, and lance and shield.
I forge the weapon; yet in vain
I mourn a Russian maid’s disdain!
I’m skilled to lead the hunter’s chase,
Each Runic character I trace;
I bear the gift of godlike fire,