Page:Songs of Russia.djvu/21

 (In the first part of the poem, Nadson tells how in his boyhood he aspired to be the poet of beauty and to sing before great personages. Later he changed his mind. He continues:) Henceforth I am the poet of labor, knowledge, grief— No more in praise of beauty my hand the harp shall sweep. I sing no song of conquest, no song of glorious deeds; I suffer with the suffering, I weep with those who weep.

I give the weary one my hand. Though heavy be my cross, Though storms and doubts, misfortune and struggle be my part, Yet it has brought me also bright moments of delight, Moments of high and holy joy that overflowed my heart.

One night I well remember: pale, like one who suffers much,