And, lonely grieving, pined away;

Or why the love of noble youths

Had been repulsed with silent scorn;

Or why at table Hetman's speech

She would drink in with greedy ear,

And when the noisy chat grew gay,

And foaming goblets flowed with wine,

And she was asked to sing, she chose

No songs save those himself had made,

When he was young, unknown to fame;

Or why, with passion strange to maid,

She loved to watch the ranged troops,

And hear the kettledrum and shouts

That hailed the golden staff and mace,

The Hetman's signs of rule and sway.

Lordly and rich is Kotzubei,

Has hosts of friends to serve his will;

Can wash away in blood this shame,

And rouse Poltava to revolt;

With sudden blow his palace storm,

And wreak a father's vengeance deep;

With sure and fatal aim can pierce -

With other thoughts his soul is stirred.

The times were ripe with troubled broil:

In threatened struggles hard and stern

The young empire must try her strength

And slowly reach her full manhood

Beneath great Peter's rule. Meanwhile,

A chast'ner cruel had been sent

To teach her how to win her fame,

And more than once the Swedish King

Had sharp and bloody lesson taught.

But, trained in durance and hard toil,