He touches her; she stirs not; muted

Her breathing is. Ruslan's young bride

Rests in the killer's arms unfeeling,

The hands of magic her lips sealing,

Its powers holding her spellbound.

His men the aged Prince watch dully

As, anxious-eyed and melancholy,

Farlaf he queries, though no sound

Escapes him."Aye, the maiden sleeps,"

A finger holding to his lips,

Without a qualm, Farlaf says slyly.

'T found her, Prince, held by a wily

And wicked goblin captive in

A Murom forest. Bound to win

Was valour, and it did. We battled

For three long days. Above us two

The moon rose thrice; then all was settled:

He fell. The sleeping maid to you

I rushed to bring from that forsaken

And lonely spot. W^hen she's to waken

And with whose help is only known

To fate, whose ways are dark. Alone

Hope, yes, and patient meditation

Can offer us some consolation."

Throughout the town there flew ere long

The fateful news, all hearts distressing.

The square filled with a seething throng

Of townsfolk, toward the palace pressing.

A house of grief, it opes its doors

To all, and there the crowd now pours

To see the youthful princess sleeping

On a raised couch clothed in brocade,

The knights and princes o'er the maid

With sombre faces vigil keeping.