It cannot be! It cannot be! She lives--soon she will waken; straightway Will ope her pretty eyes,--glad she Will prattle merry, laughing gay! And when in tears beholding me-- Will smiling, kissing, cry consoling, "Papa--it is but playing--See! I live,--yes! Leave off mourning!" But cold and mute she lies, alas! And motionless. Now in her coffin she lies, Silent amid scented flowers-- Ah what mute spirits in white O'er her corpse circle and hover? Are they the visions of bliss? Are they all spirits of hope? That during life lured her on-- Those to whom secretly oft She had entrusted her soul? They that accompanied her e'er, Faithful in forest and field? Silent they circle my child, In tearful anguish embraced-- Yet little actress she lies, Smiling, closed lashes beneath; See, she is laughing in truth-- thou most merciless Death! MAIKOW. MOTHER AND CHILD "Mother, why weepest thou ever For my little sister fair? She is now in heaven's kingdom-- Ah, it must be wondrous there!" "Yes, she is in heaven's glory, But in heaven's own land, alas! There are no butterflies nor flowers-- Nor meadows of velvet grass!" "But mother, God's blessed angels There, rejoicing sing to Him!" Forth from the sunset's rosy fires Now cometh the midnight dim. Ah, the mother wants her baby-- That she watched from the window wide, When 'mid butterflies and blossoms She played in the meadow's pride! MAIKOW. AN EASTER GREETING The lark at sunrise trills it high-- The greeting Christ is risen! And through the wood the black-bird pipes The greeting Christ is risen! Beneath the eaves the swallows cry The greeting Christ is risen! Throughout the world man's heart proclaims The greeting Christ is risen! And echo answers from the grave In truth, yes, He is risen! MAIKOW. AT EASTER Drawing near the Easter Sunday With the Easter-greeting kiss; When I come, remember Dora-- Not alone we suffer this! Then, as were it for the first time-- Kiss thou me and I kiss thee; Thou with modest eyelids downcast, I with but ill stifled glee! MAIKOW. _The religious custom of the Easter-greeting kiss prevails throughout Russia_. O MOUNTAINS OF MY NATIVE COUNTRY! "O mountains of my native country! O valleys of my home! On you gleam Winter's snowflakes white and twinkle lambs of Summer-- On you the rosy sunlight glows, you know no deathly shudder!"