He cries. "Farewell!" Across the clearing

The answer carries, his heart cheering:

"Forgive your bride and love her, heed

My counsel, knight! Farewell! Godspeed

RUSLAN AND LYUDMILA: CANTO THE SECOND.

You whose swords clash in contest gory,

Persist in your dread rivalry;

Pay tribute full to sombre glory

And relish hate and enmity!

Let the world, gaping at your deadly

Encounters, freeze-know: none will try

To interfere; more-none will, sadly,

Of pity for you breathe a sigh.

You who compete in different fashion,

Of the remote Parnassian heights

The mettlesome and valiant knights,

Fence if you must, but with discretion,

From vulgar bickering refrain:

The herd 'twill only entertain.

And as for you, by tender passion

Made bitter rivals, pray remain

On cordial terms-for he who's fated

To win a maid's love this will do

Though all mankind should lay plans to

Keep the two lovers separated....

Why fume?-It's silly and a sin.

When bold Rogdai, his heart with dim

But chilling boding filled, had parted

From his companions three and started

Across a lonely tract of land,

As he rode swiftly o'er the woody

And silent plain, on his ills brooding,

The hapless youth could ill withstand,

So troubled were his thoughts, so painful,