Up again it rises.

Sing not, Beauty, in my presence

Of Transcaucasia sad the songs,

Of distant shore, another life

The memory to me they bring.

SIGNS.

To thee I rode: living dreams then

Behind me winding in playful crowd;

My sportive trot my shoulder over

The moon upon my right was chasing.

From thee I rode: other dreams now.

My loving soul now sad was,

And the moon at left my side

Companion mine now sad was.

To dreaming thus in quiet ever

Singers we are given over;

Marks thus of superstition

Soul's feeling with are in accord!

A PRESENTIMENT.

THE clouds again are o'er me,

Have gathered in the stillness;

Again me with misfortune

Envious fate now threatens.

Will I keep my defiance?

Will I bring against her

The firmness and patience

Of my youthful pride?

Wearied by a stormy life

I await the storm fretless

Perhaps once more safe again

A harbor shall I find....

But I feel the parting nigh,

Unavoidable, fearful hour,

To press thy hand for the last time,