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art thou bards beams beauty blest bliss Bogdanovich Bornholm bosom breath bright charms clouds dark dazzling death Derzhavin Dushenka earth eternity fables fair fame fill flower gloomy glorious glory glow golden grave grief harp hear heart heaven heroes hill honour hurries Karamsin Khemnitzer life's light Little Russia living Lomonosov lyre MESHCHERSKY Midst mighty Milvana misery Moscow Moscow University mountains mourn muses never night Nought o'er Ochakov Ordal original Ossian Parnassian Penates Pilpay poem poetical poetry poets of Russia pride proud published racter rapture roll round Russian Russian alphabet Russian Grammar Russian language Russian poetry scattered shines sigh silent sleep smile soft song sorrow soul sound sparkling spirit stars stream sublime Sumarokov sweet sweetest sweetly tears thee Thou art thought throne thunder tion tomb translated trembling tzar vale voice volume wanderer waves wild wings zephyrs
Page 6 - A million torches lighted by thy hand Wander unwearied through the blue abyss : They own thy power, accomplish thy command. All gay with life, all eloquent with bliss What shall we call them ? Piles of crystal light — A glorious company of golden streams — Lamps of celestial ether, burning bright — Suns lighting systems with their joyous beams ? But thou to these art as the noon to night.
Page 5 - And thought is lost ere thought can soar so high, Even like past moments in eternity. Thou from primeval nothingness didst call First chaos, then existence; — Lord!
Page 86 - O thou that rollest above, round as the shield of my fathers! Whence are thy beams, O sun! thy everlasting light? Thou comest forth in thy awful beauty; and the stars hide themselves in the sky; the moon, cold and pale, sinks in the western wave; but thou thyself movest alone.
Page 85 - ... the halls : And the voice of the people is heard no more. The stream of Clutha was removed from its place, By the fall of the walls. The thistle shook, there, its lonely head : The moss whistled to the wind. The fox looked out from the windows, The rank grass of the wall waved round its head. Desolate is the dwelling of Moina, Silence is in the house of her fathers.
Page 78 - Now I behold the chiefs, in the pride of their former deeds! Their souls are kindled at the battles of old; at the actions of other times. Their eyes are flames of fire. They roll in search of the foes of the land, Their mighty hands are on their swords. Lightning pours from their sides of steel. They come like streams from the mountains; each rushes roaring from his hill. Bright are the chiefs of battle, in the armour of their fathers.
Page 87 - When the world is dark with tempests, when thunder rolls and lightning flies, thou lookest in thy beauty from the clouds, and laughest at the storm. But to Ossian thou lookest in vain, for he beholds thy beams no more; whether thy yellow hair flows on the eastern clouds, or thou tremblest at the gates of the west.
Page 7 - Thou art! — directing, guiding all — Thou art! Direct my understanding then to Thee; Control my spirit, guide my wandering heart; Though but an atom midst immensity, Still I am something fashioned by Thy hand! I hold a middle rank 'twixt heaven and earth — On the last verge of mortal being stand, Close to the realms where angels have their birth, Just on the boundaries of the spirit land!
Page 9 - O visions blest ! Though worthless our conceptions all of Thee, Yet shall thy shadowed image fill our breast, And waft its homage to Thy Deity. God ! thus alone my lowly thoughts can soar : Thus seek Thy presence — Being wise and good ! '.Midst Thy vast works admire, obey, adore ; And when the tongue is eloquent no more, The soul shall speak in tears of gratitude.