Thou this life preservest ever, My distress and my delight! And, though soul and body sever, Still I'll live a spirit bright; In my breast the heart that's kindled Death's dread strength can ne'er destroy, Sure the soul with thine that's mingled Must immortal life enjoy! That inspired by breath from heaven Need not shrink at mortal doom, To thee shall my vows be given In this world and that to come. My fond shade shall constant trace thee, And attend in friendly guise, Still surround thee, still embrace thee, Catch thy thoughts, thy looks, thy sighs. To divine its secret pondering, Close to clasp thy soul 'twill brave, And if chance shall find thee wandering Heedless near my silent grave, Even my ashes then shall tremble, Thy approach relume their fire, And that stone in dust shall crumble, Covering what can ne'er expire! ODE TO THE WARRIORS OF THE DON. WRITTEN IN 1812, BY N.M. SHATROFF. Sudden o'er Moscow rolls the dread thunder, Fierce o'er his proud borders Don's torrents flow, High swells each bosom, glowing with vengeance 'Gainst the base foe. Scarce in loud accents spoke our good Monarch, "Soldiers of Russia! Moscow burns bright, Foemen destroy her,"--hundreds of thousands Rush to the fight. "Who dare oppose God? who oppose Russians?" Cried the brave Hetman,--steeds round him tramp,-- "The Frenchman's ashes quickly we'll scatter, Show us his camp! "TSAR true-believing we are all ready, Thy throne's defenders, each proud heart bent By the assault th' invader's black projects To circumvent. "Russians well know the rough road to glory, Rhine's banks by our troops soon shall be trod, We fight for vengeance, for love of country, And faith in God! "BELIEVE and conquer, fear not for Russia, Awful the blow the cross-bearer strikes, Th'arkan[1] is dreadful, the sword unsparing, Sharp are our pikes. "Vain are Napoleon's skill, strength, and cunning, Nor do his hosts fill us with despair, For Michael[2] leads us, and Mary's[3] image With us we bear. "To horse, brothers, haste, the foe approaches, Holy faith guides us, in God we trust, Quick, true believers, rush to the onset, God aids the just! "Sternly rush on, friends, crush the vile Frenchman, Firm be as mountains when tempests blow, Oh! into Russia grant not the foul one Further to go." Don, broad and mighty, poured forth her children, The world was amazed, pale with affright, Napoleon abandoned his fame, and sought Safety in flight.