How brave Muscovians in the flame were seen
To chase the foe, and cross the deep ravine;
When thund'ring vollies through the liquid air
Filled the bright concave with a transient glare;
How the firm bayonet, and the Cossack lance,

Bore down the bands, and thinned the ranks of France:

Of streaming wounds, and ghastly eye-balls roll,

As dying warriors yield the fleeting soul;

Or gasping by the silent river's brink,

The fainting soldier sought a cooling drink;

Painful he dragged his wounded limbs along,
And threw his tortured frame the weeds among;
Drew to his burning lips the silver tide,

And in triumphant hope the suffering warrior died,

The glorious orb of day at length has fled, Tipping with living gold each mountain head; And Borodino's streamlet gliding by,

Faintly reflects the dusky autumn sky;

Brave Kutusoff, the hoary warrior, then,

Bade all his legions rally round again;

The broken squadrons of the faithless Gaul,
Scattered in wild disorder, fainting fall;

The prudent veteran summons every chief,
Demands their counsel, and their sage relief;
And wise resolving further fight to shun,
Withdrew his troops before the rising sun.

Intrepid Platoff, with his Cossacks brave, Stretched many a Frenchman in an unblessed grave; Swift in pursuit, and in the fight a host,

The valiant horsemen deathless laurels boast;

Nor can the poet, as he strikes the string,

Forbear the patriot virgin's praise to sing

The blooming Platoff, in her opening charms,
To bless some youthful warrior, spreads her arms;

Unlike the Argive dame, who bartered base

Her husband's honor, for a youth's embrace,

Plundered her country, and her child forsook,

Nor deigned to cast behind one anxious look;
With yielding heart, and feigned resistance strove,
And lost a royal lord for lawless love.

Far other fate, fair Platoff, may be thine,
Among the chastest of thy sex to shine;
Some daring Cossack, by thy beauties fired,
Or with a patriot's energy inspired,

Shall seek to win thee mid the war's alarms,
And winning, wear thee in his loyal arms;
Then mays't thou pass along the vale of life,
The tender mother, and the happy wife,—

And lovely infants bless thy genial bed,

So cheaply purchased by Napoleon's head (11).

Muscovy.

CANTO II.