It roars on the shore with a furious purring,
It licks on the pebbles with eagerest greed.
Vain struggle and rancor and hatred, alas!
'Tis enchained and subdued by the unheeding mass.

PUSHKIN.




THE CLOISTER ON KASBEK

KASBEK, thy regal canopy
High o'er all peaks revealed I see
By an eternal icy glare.
Hanging in cloudless glory ever--
Like to an ark thy cloister there;
This world disturbing thy peace never,
Blest realm of joy remote in air!
Ah could I at thy mercy's threshold,
From durance cursed set myself free,
And in thine own etherial cloisters
Near thy Creator ever be!

PUSHKIN.




GOBLINS OP THE STEPPES