II

3 0 00

II

And the world met her smilingly,

A first success light pinions gave,

The old Derjavine noticed me,

And blest me, sinking to the grave.

Then my companions young with pleasure

In the unfettered hours of leisure

Her utterances ever heard,

And by a partial temper stirred

And boiling o’er with friendly heat,

They first of all my brow did wreathe

And an encouragement did breathe

That my coy Muse might sing more sweet.

O triumphs of my guileless days,

How sweet a dream your memories raise!