Saturday 28 May 2022

THE RUSSIAN, THE HONEY AND THE BEAR by Hester Pulter

A Russian rustic clambering up a tree 

Sunk in the treasure of the active bee.           [i. e. He fell in!]

To his diurnal saint he did not fail 

To supplicate to free him from his jail.

But that which most augments his misery

Was that no priest or patriarch was nigh

To write a letter to Saint Nicholas,               [which he thought he needed]

And that without it he to heaven couldn’t pass.

He hopeless was; but overcharged with fears

Within and numerous foes about his ears

This captive stood; the tree he could not rive,        [tear apart]

And loath he was to be embalmed alive.

When lo, a bear came roaming for her prey

Just where the man in’s luscious prison lay.

She smelled the honey, straight she climbs the tree.

When the poor man his double death doth see

Fear caused despair, despair did make him bold;

Upon the bear’s hind legs he then catched hold.

The bear affrighted (who can hold their laughter?)

Got quickly out and pulled the man out after.

Then let none in distress his courage lose

For God can bring redemption by our foes…

For God can turn the sharpest sword or knife,

That means us instant death to give us life.

Then if restrained of liberty you be 

Think how the bear the captive Russ set free.


I think I had this story in one of my school books.




The Union Canal, Edinburgh University and a Sunset


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