LERMONTOFF.
THE DAGGER
I love thee dagger mine, thou sure defence—
I love the beauty of thy glitter cold,
A brooding Georgian whetted thee for war,
Forged for revenge thou wert by Khirgez bold.
A lily hand, in parting's silent woe,
Gave thee to me in morning's twilight shade;
Instead of blood, I saw thee first be-dewed
With sorrow's tear-pearls flowing o'er thy blade.
Two dusky eyes so true and pure of soul,
Mute in the throe of love's mysterious pain—
Like thine own steel within the fire's glow,
Flashed forth to me—then faded dull again.
For a soul-pledge thou wert by love appointed,
In my life's night to guide me to my end;
Stedfast and true my heart shall be forever,
Like thee, like thee, my steely hearted friend!
LERMONTOFF.
DON'T GIVE ME THE WINE!
Don't give me the wine!
I am drunk of my love,
With the force of my passion for you!
Don't give me the wine!
Or my tongue will betray
All the love no one dreamed hitherto;
For wine will reveal all I hid in my breast,
All the bitter hot tears that were mine,
My thirst, without hope, for a future so blest—
I am drunk of my love,—don't give me the wine!
You promise me roses now, if I will drink
But one drop of the wine;—if you please
Give only one breath from the rose of your lips!
And death's cup I will drain to the lees.
All passions are raging at once in my blood,
Know my frenzy! Love's madness is mine.
You seem for my suffering only to wish—
I am drunk of my love!
Don't give me the wine!