"'Who are you, my pigeon?'
"My answer I know not,
Or whether I gave one;
A sudden sharp pang tore
My body in twain."
* * * * *
"I opened my eyes
In a beautiful chamber, 250
In bed I was laid
'Neath a canopy, brothers,
And near me was sitting
A nurse, in a head-dress
All streaming with ribbons.
She's nursing a baby.
'Who's is it?' I ask her.
"'It's yours, little Mother.'
I kiss my sweet child.
It seems, when I fell 260
At the feet of the lady,
I wept so and raved so,
Already so weakened
By grief and exhaustion,
That there, without warning,
My labour had seized me.
I bless the sweet lady,
Elyén Alexándrovna,
Only a mother
Could bless her as I do. 270
She christened my baby,
Lidórushka called him."
"And what of your husband?"
"They sent to the village
And started enquiries,
And soon he was righted.
Elyén Alexándrovna
Brought him herself
To my side. She was tender
And clever and lovely, 280
And healthy, but childless,
For God would not grant her
A child. While I stayed there
My baby was never
Away from her bosom.
She tended and nursed him
Herself, like a mother.
The spring had set in
And the birch trees were budding,
Before she would let us 290
Set out to go home.
"Oh, how fair and bright
In God's world to-day!
Glad my heart and gay!
"Homewards lies our way,
Near the wood we pause,
See, the meadows green,
Hark! the waters play.
Rivulet so pure,
Little child of Spring, 300
How you leap and sing,
Rippling in the leaves!
High the little lark
Soars above our heads,
Carols blissfully!
Let us stand and gaze;
Soon our eyes will meet,
I will laugh to thee,
Thou wilt smile at me,
Wee Lidórushka! 310
"Look, a beggar comes,
Trembling, weak, old man,
Give him what we can.
'Do not pray for us,'
Let us to him say,
'Father, you must pray
For Elyénushka,
For the lady fair,
Alexándrovna!'