How clear rang the voice of Tamara! 
  How amorous did it invite! 
The heart of the stranger enticing,
  Seducing with magic delight!

The warrior was snared by her singing,
  Nor noble, nor herd could withstand—­
Then noiseless her portal was opened
  By eunuchs of shadowy hand.

With pearls rare adorned and strange jewels,
  Reposed on a billowy nest,
A prey to voluptuous longing,
  Tamara awaited her guest.

With passioned and thrilling embracement,
  With straining of breast unto breast,
With sighing and trembling and transport—­
  In lust’s unrestrained, giddy zest—­

So revelled ’mid desolate ruins,
  Of Lovers,—­past counting at least! 
In their bridal night’s wild distraction,
  And in truth at their own death feast.

For when from the peaks of the mountains
  The sun tore the night’s veiling soft,
There reigned anew only the silence
  On turret and casement aloft.

And only the Terek bewailing
  With fury broke in on the hush,
As dashing her billows on billows
  Her writhing floods onward did rush.

A youth’s form her currents are bearing,
  Ah vainly they murmur and swell! 
A woman, a pale and a fair one—­
  Cries down from her tower “Farewell!”

Her voice has the sound of faint weeping,
  So amorous, tender and sweet—­
As if she in love’s holy rapture
  Did promise of meeting repeat!

LERMONTOFF.

[Tamara is the Russian Lorelei.  The ruins of her castle are still shown in the pass of Darjal on the famous Georgian Road.]

THE GIFT OF THE TEREK

Through the rocks in wildest courses
  Seethes the Terek grim of mood,
Tempest howling its bewailing,
  Pearled with foam its tearful flood.

At the mountain’s feet soft streaming,
  Gentler grown its murmurs be,
And with greeting full of fawning
  Speaks to the Caspian Sea: 

“Hospitable part thy billows,
  Give me room, oh Ocean grave! 
From a distance drawing thither—­
  Scarce my weary currents wave.

Born upon the edge of Kasbek,
  By the breast of clouds renewed,
Hatred have I sworn to mankind,
  Who with us, the free, make feud.

See, by rage of my own fury
  Lies despoiled my Darjal home,
And as playthings for thy children,
  Pebbles bearing now I come.”

Yet upon her strands a’dreaming,
  Mute the grey Sea did remain,
And the Terek, silver foaming,
  Spoke caressingly again.

“Grey Sea I would serve thee only,
  Have a present borne to-day—­
See, ’tis a young Carabineer
  Who has fallen in the fray.

How his coat of mail is gleaming
  Silver on the billows’ span! 
Golden on his trappings shining
  Blessing of the Alcoran!