The Talisman from the Russian of Alexander Pushkin With Other Pieces

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.