And two old pines their branches spread -

"Vladimir Lenski lies beneath,

Who early died a gallant death,"

Thereon the passing traveller read:

"The date, his fleeting years how long -

Repose in peace, thou child of song."

VII.

Time was, the breath of early dawn

Would agitate a mystic wreath

Hung on a pine branch earthward drawn

Above the humble urn of death.

Time was, two maidens from their home

At eventide would hither come,

And, by the light the moonbeams gave,

Lament, embrace upon that grave.

But now - none heeds the monument

Of woe: effaced the pathway now:

There is no wreath upon the bough:

Alone beside it, gray and bent,

As formerly the shepherd sits

And his poor basten sandal knits.

VIII.

My poor Vladimir, bitter tears

Thee but a little space bewept,

Faithless, alas! thy maid appears,

Nor true unto her sorrow kept.

Another could her heart engage,

Another could her woe assuage

By flattery and lover's art -

A lancer captivates her heart!

A lancer her soul dotes upon:

Before the altar, lo! the pair,

Mark ye with what a modest air

She bows her head beneath the crown;(68)

Behold her downcast eyes which glow,