The Talisman

From the Russian of Pushkin.

Where fierce the surge with awful bellow Doth ever lash the rocky wall; And where the moon most brightly mellow Dost beam when mists of evening fall; Where midst his harem's countless blisses The Moslem spends his vital span, A Sorceress there with gentle kisses Presented me a Talisman.

And said: until thy latest minute Preserve, preserve my Talisman; A secret power it holds within it-- 'Twas love, true love the gift did plan. From pest on land, or death on ocean, When hurricanes its surface fan, O object of my fond devotion! Thou scap'st not by my Talisman.

The gem in Eastern mine which slumbers, Or ruddy gold 'twill not bestow; 'Twill not subdue the turban'd numbers, Before the Prophet's shrine which bow; Nor high through air on friendly pinions Can bear thee swift to home and clan, From mournful climes and strange dominions-- From South to North--my Talisman.

But oh! when crafty eyes thy reason With sorceries sudden seek to move, And when in Night's mysterious season Lips cling to thine, but not in love-- From proving then, dear youth, a booty To those who falsely would trepan From new heart wounds, and lapse from duty, Protect thee shall my Talisman.