The world a bright place seems, and sweeet

Life is again; forgot distress is....

But then the sudden joyful glow

His face leaves, and it pales and darkens.

"Do not despair but to me harken,"

The old man says. "I know what so

Disquiets you: you are in fear of

The warlock's love, eh, knight?... Be calm

The truth is, O my youthful hero,

That he can do the maid no harm.

From sky the stars he'll pluck, I'll wager,

Or shift the moon that sails on high,

But change the law of time and aging

He cannot, hard as he may try.

Though he lets none her chamber enter

And jealous watch keeps at her door,

He is the impotent tormentor

Of his fair captive, nothing more.

While never far from her, he curses

His lot, and soundly - but, my knight,

'Tis time for you to rest: the earth is

Enclosed in shadow; it is night."

On soft moss lies Ruslan, a flame

Before him flickering. He yearns

For soothing sleep, he twists and turns

And flings about-but no, 'tis plain

That sleep won't come. He heaves a sigh

And says: "Nay, Father, sick am I

Of soul and cannot sleep for dreary

And troubled thought. Talk to me, do;

With godly speech, I beg of you,

Relieve my heart: it aches, it's weary...

I make too bold to ask you this;