Make lasting peace with thee and thine.

Let angry Finnish waves forget

Their bondage ancient and their feud;

Nor let them with their idle hate

Disturb great Peter's deathless sleep!

It was a day of fear and dread,

In book of memory still writ.

And now, for you, my friends, the tale

Of that day's woe 1 will begin;

And mournful will my story be.

THE BRONZE HORSEMAN. CANTO THE FIRST.

O er Peter's cloud-wrapt city hung

November's autumn cold and mist.

With noisy splash of angry wave

The Neva chafed her granite fence,

As one, confined to bed with pain,

Will peevish toss from side to side.

The hour was late, and it was dark,

The rain beat hard on window-pane,

The wind with mournful howl roared loud,

When young Evjenie bade his friends

Adieu, and homeward turned his steps.

Evjenie is our hero's name,

A name that lightly falls in verse,

And one my pen is used to write.

No interest his surname has,

Though in the olden times gone by,

May be, it was in high repute;

We meet with it in Karamsin,

Like other once familiar names;

But now 'tis lost and all unknown.

In district called Kolumna lived

Our hero, who in office served.

His chiefs he feared, but patient bore