Page:Poems, Alexander Pushkin, 1888.djvu/67

Rh MY PEDIGREE.

scorning laughter at a fellow writer,

In a chorus the Russian scribes

With name of aristocrat me chide:

Just look, if please you &hellip; nonsense what!

Court Coachman not I, nor assessor,

Nor am I nobleman by cross;

No academician, nor professor,

I'm simply of Russia a citizen.

Well I know the times' corruption,

And, surely, not gainsay it shall I:

Our nobility but recent is:

The more recent it, the more noble 't is.

But of humbled races a chip,

And, God be thanked, not alone

Of ancient Lords am scion I;

Citizen I am, a citizen!

Not in cakes my grandsire traded,

Not a prince was newly-baked he;

Nor at church sang he in choir,

Nor polished he the boots of Tsar;