"There's somebody knocking. Makhar has gone out; 220 I am sitting alone now. I go to the door And look out. In the courtyard A carriage is waiting. I ask, 'Is he coming?' 'The lady is coming,' The porter makes answer, And hurries away To the foot of the staircase. A lady descends, 230 Wrapped in costliest sables, A lackey behind her. I know not what followed (The Mother of God Must have come to my aid), It seems that I fell At the feet of the lady, And cried, 'Oh, protect us! They try to deceive us! My husband--the only 240 Support of my children-- They've taken away-- Oh, they've acted unjustly!'... "'Who are you, my pigeon?' "My answer I know not, Or whether I gave one; A sudden sharp pang tore My body in twain." * * * * * "I opened my eyes In a beautiful chamber, 250 In bed I was laid 'Neath a canopy, brothers, And near me was sitting A nurse, in a head-dress All streaming with ribbons. She's nursing a baby. 'Who's is it?' I ask her. "'It's yours, little Mother.' I kiss my sweet child. It seems, when I fell 260 At the feet of the lady, I wept so and raved so, Already so weakened By grief and exhaustion, That there, without warning, My labour had seized me. I bless the sweet lady, Elyen Alexandrovna, Only a mother Could bless her as I do. 270 She christened my baby, Lidorushka called him." "And what of your husband?" "They sent to the village And started enquiries, And soon he was righted. Elyen Alexandrovna Brought him herself To my side. She was tender And clever and lovely, 280 And healthy, but childless, For God would not grant her A child. While I stayed there My baby was never Away from her bosom. She tended and nursed him Herself, like a mother. The spring had set in And the birch trees were budding, Before she would let us 290 Set out to go home. "Oh, how fair and bright In God's world to-day! Glad my heart and gay! "Homewards lies our way, Near the wood we pause, See, the meadows green, Hark! the waters play. Rivulet so pure, Little child of Spring, 300 How you leap and sing, Rippling in the leaves! High the little lark Soars above our heads, Carols blissfully! Let us stand and gaze; Soon our eyes will meet, I will laugh to thee, Thou wilt smile at me, Wee Lidorushka! 310 "Look, a beggar comes, Trembling, weak, old man, Give him what we can. 'Do not pray for us,' Let us to him say, 'Father, you must pray For Elyenushka, For the lady fair, Alexandrovna!'