SONGS OF RUSSIA
Take leave of all, then, and submit yourself;
Bow to your helpless and depressing fate.
What use to dream of freedom, pine for it,
For life, work, strife, outside the prison gate?
Let fear nor hope nor joy nor sorrow come
Unto your broken heart a throb to lend.
Life’s ocean you will never see again;
Your own life’s journey, too, will shortly end.
In Death’s embrace your respite you will find
From grief and suffering; in oblivion’s sea
You will receive your guerdon—the repose
You have desired so long and ardently.
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