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Th e , igh t -B e a re r of , ib ert y , a n d
S o ci al Tr age dies , a n d o t h e r ve rse ,
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B O S T O N
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P ublisher s
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S h a ll w e w h o s e fa t h e rs b ra v ely fo u g h t a n d w ell
T o m a k e o u r F r e em e n s h er it ag e s ec u re ,
S h a l l w e , t h e s o n s o f F r e e do m s l i n e a g e p u r e ,
H edg ed i n w it h g o o d de a r b o u g h t b y t h o s e t h a t
Fo rg e t i n e a s e a n d c o m fo r t t h o s e t h a t dw ell
I n h a rs h er b o n ds a n d h a r der t o e n d u re,
fl l a s , w e c a n n o t r ea c h a h a n d t o c u re
T h e c ry in g ev il o r t h e c u rs e d is p el,
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B u t w e w h o s e m o n ey- b ags a r e l o o s ed t o s e n d
u ic k c o m fo r t r o u n d t h e w o r l d t o h u m a n n e ed
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Wh e n e a rt h q u a k e , fa m i n e , fire , o r flo o d h as
w r o ug h t ,
S h a ll w e n o t l o o s e o u r h ea r t -s t r i n g s , n o b ly s p e n d
T h e h o ar ded sy m p a t h y a n d cry G o d s p eed
Wh e n m e n g r o w fr ee w h o m o u r e , a m p l e t a ug h t ,
O, ,
TO TH E RUS S I AN PE O PLE
I
God s ma rch acr o ss the ages
I s som e times ma r ked with blood
Wh er e r ighte o us battl e r a ges
Fo r Fr ee dom and the Right
The re God stands in His might
To bless the p u r pl e flood
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Whilom a figure rose
Colossal mid t h e snows
With sc e pt e r and c rown
O f o l d r enown
And r uled a mighty r e al m
W ith couns e ls fi r m and i r on han d
No s u bject millions could overwhelm
No r yet withstand
B u t they fell on th e i r kne e s a nd w o r ship e d rath e r
The c r ook that guid e d th e r od that s mot e
An d gath ere d from con q u e re d lands re mot e
T o kiss th e hand of th e i r little Fath er
I n loyal lov e
All l or ds a bove
God s vica r a b sol u te
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Resistl e ss to do his people good
And st r ong in good re p ut e
To sav e th e multitud e
F r om ba rre n d re a ms and w ild d e si re s
Th e fatal ma dn e ss that as pi re s
To gras p th e w h ee l of its o w n fat e
And guid e th e sto r m tossed Ship of Stat e
Th e nations gazing fr om afa r
Hailed hi m w ith on e acco r d the G re at Whit e Cza r
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chall e n g e ca m e to all th e wo r ld ,
Le t you r battl e fla gs b e fu r l e d
Stop you r cannon s b r utal th und er
An d u ndo th e fatal bl und er
O f the s w o r d s s up re m e app e al
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stic
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To p r ot e ct th e common w eal
T r ust is mo re than thick e st a r mo r
T r uth than sha r p diplomacy
Le t ou r p e oples lov e grow wa r me r
, nit by nobl e cou rt e sy
Cast asid e you r a r ma m e nts
Me e t in solemn pa r liam e nts
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OD E TO
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RUS S IAN PE O PLE
An d wa r shall c e ase
An d olive b r anch e d p e ac e
S hall wing h er bl e ssings ov e r all th e lands ,
Fo r ev ery th r on e that lofty stands
On pil e s of h u man s kulls
M ust tott e r an d fall at last
When the God of ho s ts ann uls
Its ch a rter w ith t r ump e t bla s t
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So spak e the Great Whit e Cza r
The nations hea r d afa r
An d good men dr e a med that th e hour ha d com e
To m q e th e t u rb ulent j u bilant d r um
To fo r ge all swords into p r uning hooks
To fa s hion s p e a r s int o sh e ph e rds crooks
R e mand th e wa r r io r to th e fi e l ds
Where honest toil to th e e ater yields
L ife giving b r ea d
An d not death s ha r ve s t r ed
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And seers u n r oll e d the s pl e ndid vision
Of wo r lds r e d ee m e d b e n e ath th e b anner
Of him who stood in the s now s
Colossal a n d whit e
With imp e rial might
And godlike m anner
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OD E TO TH E RUSS IAN PE O PLE
With a will to con q u er ind e cision
And br in g the bu rdened w o rld rep o s e
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And po e ts san g the destiny
O f the y ou n g—old la nd beyond the sea
The land o f the neve r backwa r d st e p
Whos e will fr om a ge to a g e the sa me
I n high imperial aim
H a d b a lked a t na ught
B u t ever onw a rd kept
A n d br avely wr ou ght
Or dog gedly waited
Unti l t h e enemy s stren gth a bated
A n d the onwa rd m o vement fat e d
A s her world historic role
B r oug ht her n ea rer to the go al
Nea rer to the midland s eas
Nea rer t o t h e so u thern ocean
Ne a rer to the vast P acific
W hither with s p l endor and po m p ma g ni fi c
I n prescie n t hope and high devotion
S he soug ht o n open port
A frie n dly b eckoning re so rt
W i de a r m ed for her b u rde n ed a r gosie s
Th a t h er l a nd lo cked people mi ght be free
T o sha re in perpe t u ity
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The fr u it s of pea c e
Who se blessings n e ver cease
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And stat e s men fa r seeing wise
Men o f high emp r ise
Hea rd th e challen ge of p e ac e
From their mighty n e ighbo r
And gla dly join e d in th e blessed la bor
Of men s r e leas e
Only the demon of dist r ust
Grinned at the shapes o f the b e a utifu l drea m
As sceptic d e mons eve r m us t
In the face o f the good s u pr e me
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IV
Tis t h e I deal
Not the Real
Rul e s the wo r ld
By th e I d e al
Not the Real
A re , e us lightnin g s h u rl e d
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The pe o ple s drea m
The pe o ple s will
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OD E TO TH E RUS S IAN PE O PLE
I O
A r e th e law s up re me
And shall b e still
With gath er ing st r ength
Th r o u ghout th e length
Of ev ery lan d
Till th e b e som of doom
I n God s r ight hand
L ik e the d r ea d simoom
On Afr ic s st r and
Shall s wee p His handi w o r k away
the cons uming fi r es of the last g r eat day
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E nth r oned in th e consenting hea r t
Of a h und r ed million m e n
Inca r nat e will of th e citiz e n
An d symbol of j ustic e a nd power
Of p u r ity in t e mpl e and ma rt
Of w isdom in council and cabinet
The r ul er sta nds a n imp re gna bl e tower
With n e ve r a cannon o r bayonet ,
B u t a r med with e, il e and th e knout
Pr ese r ved by ikons and a mul e ts
An d safely hedg e d all r ound a bout
With Cossa ck sab er s and bayon e ts
Int r ench e d in fo r mal power
Th e P ast s un q uestion e d dow er
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OD E TO TH E RUSS IAN PE O PLE
The scept e r e d a utoc r at
I s reft of glo ry a nd sho r n o f st re n gth
Wh e n his s u bj e ct millions b e hold at l e n gth
I n hi m th e oliga r ch s pliant tool
Th e r oyal cat s pa w of misrule
Th e symbol of r obb ery a nd d e ath
Of da r kness a nd fa mine an d e vil fa m e
Of bloody ho rr o r s w ithout a na m e
That nations point th e fin ge r at
And hold th e i r b re ath
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The stable thron e
Is bas e d alon e
On perfe ct t ru st
Only his r eign
Can lon g re main
Who s e r u l e is j u st
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How a r e the mighty falling ,
A c r ow n e d anach r onism
I s b r ought b e fo r e Tim e s j udgm e nt ba r
A ling er ing Ch r istian d e spotism
Th e last and most a ppalling
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OD E TO TH E RUS S IAN PE O PLE
Is t ri e d at len gth by fire
An d stands convicted o f the ma d desire
Of lawless con q u e s t a nd u nholy wa r
A nation s t r uth and hono r p light e d
By gr eed and ma d a mbition blight e d
Has opened eyes to see an d know
Her p r id e b r ought low
I n s plen did wo e ,
For th e fig u re that whilom rose
Maj e stic mid the sn ows
And wor e a c rown
Of old r enown
Ha s fo r fe ited his go o d rep u te
And stands a b e gga r destit u t e
Still cr own e d in awful i r ony
B u t wea k and fea r fu l as a fr i ghten e d child
That looks into th e darkn e ss with the wild
Wide ey e s of sightless sp ee chl e ss fea r
Foreboding still som e evil near
What s u btle mockery
Of p ower impe r ial ,
What bette r is a crown than ca p and b e lls
When r oyal will dw ells not b e lo w P
What fatal lie s the ermine tells
Whos e a mple snow
E nwra ps within it s costly folds
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1
The cowering for m o f o n e th at holds
A scepter a imless
With ne r ve l e ss hand though bla m eless ,
Whe n Caesar s th r on e is th e s ymbol o f greed
An d not of h e lp in u tmost need
O f gloom fu n ere al
And not o f life and fre s hening light
Tha t l e a d me n o u t o f death a n d night
No ma gic word nor mystic r i t e
Ca n force d u e r e v e r e nce
The lie t h e w e a kness an d the fe a r
The want o f hea rt and hone s t s ens e
The cowa r dly sem b lance o f re fo r m
The t empo r i , ing with the sto r m
Ar e sw ift fore ru nne r s o f t h e w orld s col d s n eer
Ma d b u siness thi s to l e t a n empi r e s rein s
Slip to the hands o f r e ckles s d u kes
W h o r u le o r r uin f o r golden gains
S uch d ee ds invit e th e ma melukes
To s we ep their maste r s fr om the throne of st at e t e
And fo u n d n ew dynasti e s wt h the cons e nt o f fate
What boot s a n open s e a
W hen b ou gh t with perj u ry ,
What boots a wid e d o ma in
Where fe a r al o n e can long maintain
A ba rren a nd in gl o ri o us reign
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OD E TO TH E RUSS IAN PE O PLE
N o t lands b ut m e n t r u e men
The pat r iot w ise the cl e a r ey e d citiz e n
Can mak e a nation gr e at
And stay th e hand of fat e
When fo e s ar e at th e gat e
How a r e th e mighty falling ,
O crowned anach r onis m
Most Ch r istia n d e s potis m
Thy fat e is most a ppalling ,
Dishono re d at Time s j udgment ba r
Guilty of la w l e ss an d unholy w a r
B ankrupt in h e a rt an d whelm e d with fatal ca re
Defe at e d d r iven to d e spai r
Th e nations look on fr om afa r
An d hail no more the G re at White Cza r
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VI
O pa t r iot p e ople thy hour is com e ,
Th e a utumn to thy blood sown fi e lds
A lat e b ut p re cious ha r vest yi e lds
Yo u r hands with bootl e ss toil a re n umb
Yo u r bruised hea rts ach e w ith the na m e less w oe
Of b e ast s o e rdrive n that know not why
Th ey waste beneath the la s h and die ,
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Yet ris e O b u r dened p e ople show
Thy proph e t voices a re not u nhea rd
Unhe e d e d the n e w h e roic w o r d
That rin g s an d sings througho u t th e lan d ,
O people o f the Untri e d Dr e a m
Our h o pes an d p r ay e rs a re w ith the ba n d
O f stalwa rt heroes that withst a nd
The onwa rd c u r r ent o f ancient w r o n g
An d swea r that it shall n o t prolon g
Its c u rse beyond this ho u r su p r em e
Thy dr e a m is w o r thy O patient race
B ew a r e l e st pati e nc e dr e a m too lon g
Until the p re cious hou r s of g r ac e
Are gon e fo r ever , Rise , Be strong ,
P l u ck now t h e fr u its o f str e n gt h an d liv e
No Cae s a r ever deign e d to g iv e
His s ub jects fr e e dom Ye canno t kneel
Before the anointed tyra nt s th rone
And win yo ur rights by meek a pp e al
The a nswer i s ever l e a d an d steel
Ye cannot sit a nd sigh o r moa n
O e r wr ongs end ur ed or rights d e nied
And hop e that Caesa r w ill e er disown
A singl e a ct once r ati fi e d
Fo r sympathy
With moa nin g misery
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OD E TO TH E RUS S IAN PE O PLE
Th e w orld ca n h e a r you and sympathi , e
B ut Caesa r can n ot h e a r you r cri e s
A d ucal chorus a bout th e thron e
With gre e dy cla mo r s drow ns you r moa n
L ie not s u pin e
B ut rise at l e n gt h
I n manhood s co n scio u s stren gth
A nd s cale the hea v e n of your ow n desires
T o fetch t r ue manhood s p u re st fi r es
F r om alta r s o f lib e rty divine
To light yo u r glorio u s path
O ut of this labyrinth of night and w o e
That with j ust and g uiltl e ss wrath
And witho u t ignobl e scath
, o u may s t rike th e fated blow
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Be o n e O m i ghty people o n e
I n h e a rt and hop e and p urpose o n e
An d wr est yo u r rights w ith stainl e ss hands ,
Be one , B e st r ong , You r right h ands clasp
In Freedom s glo r io u s b roth e rho o d
Which ty r ants never yet withstood ,
B e one , B e strong , Fo r w ant o f u nity
Hath ev e r b e e n yo u r tyrant s opportunity
An d if y o ur n ew fo u nd liberty
I s ever wre s t ed fr om yo u r g rasp
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OD E TO TH E RUSS IAN PE O PLE
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What constitutes a state ,
An imb e cile king and a cabin e t
A Ho u s e of L o r ds an d a Royal Gaz e tt e
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A r ott e n Commons
c r in ging s e t
Ch u r ch tithes an d w a r ta , es a constitution
A n un dig e st e d di vin e confusion
And h uman r ights a d
d illusion ,
These constit u t e a stat e ,
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What constitut e s a state ,
An oc e an of ma dne s s loosed a nd s urging
The Da r kn e ss o ut of his d e eps e merging
Th e brute r e d hand at th e task o f p ur gin g
And silks and lac e s th e thing uncl e an
An d F ree dom a god w ith rit e s obsc e n e
Th e s po us e of F ree dom th e g u illotin e ,
Th e s e constitut e a stat e ,
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What constitut e s a stat e ,
A fa d e d pa r chm e nt a c e ntu ry old
Th e na m e s of pat r iot d e a d en r olled
A Fou r th of ,uly an d omnipot e nt gold
Old Glo ry a nd h u ng er the cla mo r ing mass e s
One man on e vot e an d the w a r r ing of class e s
And boss e s to muzzl e and d r iv e the ass e s
Th ese constit u t e a stat e ,
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What constitut e s a stat e ,
Tis a bough of th e w o r ld old Igd r a sil
With th e sa p of th e ag e s a flo w in g still
And b udding in w isdom an d bloo ming in w ill
And fr uiting in d ee ds of th e mighty a nd w is e
With a sha do w a s b roa d as th e w id e bl u e s ki e s
Wh ere w orth fr om un w orth may strug gl e an d ris e
This constit u t e s a stat e
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What constit u t e s a stat e ,
O n e ve r a God o r ma n ma d e thi ng
Com e forth o u t of night at a s ingl e s pri ng
And na ught can stifl e its bou r ge oning
And w hat though th e anci e nt b r anch e s di e
And c rash a s th e w hi r l w ind fat e s s p e ed by ,
Th ere a r e new b uds shooti n g u p n e a re r th e s ky
This constitut e s a sta te
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VI I I
I n w hos e w ill doth th e stat e r e si d e
In w hos e mi ght doth th e la w a bid e ,
I n his w ho by th e accid e nt
Of r oyal birth a nd m ut e consent
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TO TH E RUSS I AN PE O PLE
All privat e wills doth ov e r r ide ,
G o d s b an is on th e i mp er ial rac e
No royal dr e a m nor p rou d u kas e
Ca n s e t at na u ght the primal la w
That g re at m e n d w indl e in th e i r sons
An d p er ish in th e thi r d d e g ree
Of th e ir d e prav e d poste r ity ,
That g e nius th rou gh s w ift cycl e s r uns
F r om w retch e d ho vel and b e d of st r a w
To palace and th rone t o p u r pl e and pow er
Th e n back a gain in e vil hou r
To hid e its sha m ed g e ntility
I n ra gs and de e p h u mility
Tw as ev e r th u s that m e n g rew fr ee
Fo r th e y who st r iv e to cont r av e n e
L ife s s u r ging fr om its mystic d e eps
Its e bb ing unto levels mea n
Are lik e , ing , n u t besi d e th e s e a
Who ba d e th e tid e s no fa rth e r cr ee p
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O r doth th e imp er ial w ill al o ne
Its mandates an d d e c r ees make k n ow n
By pop ula r majoriti e s
T e n tho u san d p e asants d u ll opp re ssed
On whom the e mpire s b u r dens r e st
W ho lo o k w i t h re s i g nati on d u ll
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OD E TO TH E RUS S IAN PE O PLE
Up o n th e ir bi rthright void a nd n ul l
I n whom th e g eni u s of thei r r a ce
No s pa rk of as piration laid
B u t like d umb cattle d u lly ma d e
E ach like to e ach w ithout a t r ace
Of s elfho o d h u man an d distinct
Of re a son with the gr e at gods linked
Ca n the se t e n thousan d s ightles s pawns
F o r wh o m no fated vision dawns
Ca n these be God s a u tho r itie s
The faithfu l ov e r a few thin gs
Hel d wo rthy o f th e th r one o f kings
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One mi ghty h e a rt is m o re th an th ey
One p ro phet so u l doth all outwei gh
Fo r h e shal l r u l e wh o hath th e power
To g u ide his flock a nd not d e vou r
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I n whose will doth the state a b id e
I n whose might doth th e law re side ,
I n thei r s who da re to con q ue r a nd reign
The mighty synod of h e a r t a nd brain
Whose labors still th e state maintain
The host of spi r its choic e a nd b ra v e
Wh o rid e today th e cr e st of t h e wav e
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OD E TO TH E RUS S IAN PE O PLE
Tossed up by th e h e aving of t h e m ain
No sp e cial o r d er of wealth o r bi r th
I n fi , ed cast e shall r ul e th e e a rth
B ut th e y who sco r ning mean er things
Giv e t r a nsi e nt d e eds i mmo rtal wings
Anoint e d daysmen of the , in g of kings
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Ho w h ath th e stat e solidity ,
H ow hath th e la w validity ,
By vi rtu e of Cossack sa br e st rok e
S ib e rian e , il e noisome choke
Of p rison mines , O r all th e t err o r s
That sc e pte re d might is a r m e d w ithal ,
O r must pe r fo r c e all m e n ob e y
B e ca u s e th e good and j ust hold s w ay ,
Tw e re doubly bl e st O poo r O pp r ess e d
To live and di e at th e i r b e h e st
To bea r the p e tty b u r d e n of th e ir er ro r s
And sha r e th e a mple life th e y b r ing to all
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And yet th e God o f n ations is a god of hosts
His ca re i s e v er for the multitud e
F ro m thes e by d e vious w ays sca r c e und er stood
At tim e s that ba ffle h uma n r eckoni n g
H e rais e s p ro phet stat e s ma n priest o r king
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OD E TO TH E RUS S IAN PE O PLE
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As see m eth best An d when the s e leave their
posts
N o t W holly wo rthy o f His awfu l tr us t s
W ith silent ha nd and s w ift He s urely th r us ts
The faithless stewa rds from thei r l o fty se a ts
And raises men o f low de g ree
T o r u le H is p e ople a n d t o se t them fre e
Th us everm o re G o d s hand rep e at s
The mira cle of h u ma n destiny
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The multit u de is God s gr eat s u r gin g sea
Hi s r es e r voir of spi r it ene r gy
Fr om which the n ations d e stinie s a rise
And whoso strives to m u fil e the d u ll cri es
Of peasant millions o r the w or k s hop s hordes
I s st r iving gain s t h is own foredoom e d lords
To s h u t th e living G od fr o m history
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The welfa re of H is millions i s God s test of states
And b u r sting bombs a nd swift death dealing blows
His r u d e and bloody vengement w h e n unblessed
fa t es
Hi s clo u d o f witness e s h ave cr us hed to b r ute repose
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OD E TO TH E RUS S IAN PE O PLE
24
I,
T oo bitter and t o o l ong
Th e deep ancestral w r on g
T o o haltin g an d t o o late
The s che m e to p alliate
An d s tay the han d o f su llen h a t e
,
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N o fl oo d e er bu rs t it s da m
With c u rrent cal m a nd u ndi s tu rb ed
B u t seethin g a nd roa r in g
I n c a ta racts po u rin g
It s weeps d own th e valley
With might re s istless
Till by its o wn r uin balk e d a nd cur b ed ,
E e n th e n bu t a moment li s tless
It lea ps a g ain with mighty rally
A n d plow s th r oug h the j a m
Till fa r d own t h e plain
It g ather s again
An d flow s no longer e r rant
B u t fo r ms a maj e stic c ur rent
Wh o se b r oa d u n ru ffled boso m bea r s
I n mirr o red bea u ty thr oug h pro s pering ai r s
A h u nd r ed fr eighted a rgosi e s
In s a fe t y to t h e q u iet sea s
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26
OD E TO TH E RUSS IAN PE O PLE
And c e as e at last to bu r n
An d m e n to b e asts re tu r n
Fo r hea ve nly fi re is n e v er q u e nched
When kindled in on e pat r iot soul
Thou g h limb from limb is r ud e ly wre nch e d
An d ma r ty r fir e s cons um e him
O r h u r l e d ston e s e ntomb him
The e nd may b e fa r
B ut fi , e d a s a sta r
I s th e fa r s ee n goal ,
F ree dom w ithout a fl a w
F re edom gi r d e d with la w
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Too bitt e r and too long
I s the d e ep a nc e st r al wro ng
Hor ro r shall re a r h er Cimme r ia n b rood
B ut out of ho rr o r shall come fo r th good
Then we lcome th e go ry Hood ,
W e lcom e th e d e l uge of blood
Wh e n Ma dn e ss ma kes a w ay
Fo r F r e e dom s glo r ious day ,
Too little faith hav e we w ho sh rink
From plun g ing w h e n we r e ach th e b r ink
Tho u gh know ing that the fa r th er sho re
Shall know s uch hor r o r s neve r mo re
W elco m e the del ug e if it co m e ,
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OD E TO TH E RUS S I A N PE O PL E
Shout fo r Victory , B e not d umb ,
Pr ay to th e God of life and light
Fo r Victo ry to th e Right , W
,
Fo r w hos e glo ry w ill you fight
O l e gions of St Pe t er s land
Fo r th e Pe opl e , Fo r th e Right ,
O r that oliga r chic band
That ov e rwh e lm
Yo u r sa c r ed re alm ,
What , icto r s c r ow n
What fai r re now n
I s w on by shooting b re th r en down
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Ma ke fi r m th e ty r ant s r ul e
An d b e his bloody tool
And th e n his s up plia nt fool
When all too lat e th e fi rm wr ought chain
Hath re nde re d e v ery st r uggl e va in
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H e stalks in ma rtial p r id e along you r lin e s
An d smiles his r oyal thanks
And holds b e fo re you r s err i e d r a nks
,
27
28
OD E TO TH E RUS S IAN PE O PLE
Hi s infant heir to s e rv e his de e p designs
A little child should stir men unto peac e
To love and lov e s increase
An d not to fr at r icidal wa r
I s it a thin g to battle fo r
That a Romano ff s miled
And a little child
L ooked wid e eyed wonder as you pass e d
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Would that the R u bicon w e re c rossed the die
were cast ,
O that you fe lt for one b r i e f hou r
That R u ssia s welfa re R u ssia s power
Is som e thing no b le r than a Romano ff s dowe r ,
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B ut woe to he r children and w o e to he r lo r ds
Wh e n R us sia s sco ur ged by h er Cossack horde s
W ho fai thful to bl o odshed and ho rr o rs al o ne
Wo u ld sla u ghter their kin s men to st r en gt hen a
th ro n e
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Sa d fate thei rs to do a nd di e
Na m e l e ss a nd fa meless
Sternly thei r t r a de to ply
Wa r ring so s ha meless
O that thei r story
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O D E TO TH E RUS S IAN PE O PLE
Mi g ht sha re in th e glory
Of Russia fre ed ,
O that a grateful people
From e very j ubilant st e epl e
Might fl ing th e ir p r a is e
On ev e ry win d
To a ll man kind ,
29
,
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I n p r oud fo re fee ling of that a mpl e day
O u r confid e nt h e a rts e , ult a nd say ,
O peopl e of the Untried D re a m God s p ee d ,
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What m e ans this da rk a n d t re a cherous hint
That Russia s voic e shall be sti fl e d yet ,
Do es h e w ho p romis e d w ith o ut stint
,His son u pon a sta bl e th r on e to se t
And q ue ll r e b e llion a n d ins u r g e nt hat e
An d s pa re h im se lf a ty r a nt s l uckless fat e ,
Of his imp er ial and unchanging w ill
To ma k e her couns e ls hencefo rth la w s u pr e me
Do e s he fo r soot h b e ca u se his Cossacks still
With b re t h re n s bloo d into , icated kill
P re su me t o reins t ate the old re g i m e ,
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3
O D E TO TH E RUSS IAN PE O PLE
Audacity b eyond th e w o r ld s b e lief
—
d
An d p e rfi y God bring him soon to g r i e f
Whos e couns e l tu r ns th e p romis e to a l ie ,
Th e Romano ff s ha r d fat e it is to t ry
His s ubj e c ts all too fond fid e lity
B e yon d e nd u r anc e May th e ir w ill b e sp e d
An d God p re s e rve hi m l e st h e lose his h e a d ,
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Onc e mor e th e st er n old l e sson ha s b ee n ta ught
That fre ed o m b ut by vigilanc e is bought
O Russia b e no long er dup e d a nd fool e d
B ut say the r ight to rul e li e s w ith th e rul e d
And saying da re maint ain th e mighty truth
And seal it w it h you r blood if n ee ds m ust b e
That tyrants choos e th e s w o r d s a r bit r a m e nt
To urg e in ma d d e spair th e outw o r n pl e a
Of r igh t divin e to r u le th e b r a ve an d free
O ris e an d s mit e and p r o ve in ve ry sooth
That y e a r e men for any a rgum e nt
So long as Ca e sa r g ives you lib er ty
So long his r oyal gift may b e w ith d r a w n
To pl e as e a cou rti er s w himsy o r his ow n
—
An d y e a r e free to bea r his ty r anny ,
B ut if y e tak e it w ith the hand of power
Tis you r s fo r ev er and yo ur child re n s dow er ,
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OD E TO TH E RUS S IAN PE O PLE
3
, II
At last ye pati e nc e tri e d at last
The night of the w ill —o th e w is p is past
Y e kno w him now fo r what h e w as and is
Th e plaything of the a w ful destini e s ,
H e do ff s th e imp e ria l mas k w ith his ow n hand
And show s his fac e that all may u nd er stand
His u tt e r scorn of R u ssia s hop e s and p r ay e rs
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B e hold a we aklin g t o iling in th e sna re s
Of g ree dy faction h u rl e d from act to act
By base intrigu e w hos e ha nd is n e v e r sl a ck e d
A r oyal sh u ttl e cock b e at to an d fr o
Tw i , t mo rtal fe a r and timid con fid e nc e
A n ermin e d cow a r d t r embling at th e blo w
That soon shall e n d his p u rpl e i mpot e nc e ,
Or if not w eakling then behold a foe
With sops of lies to k ee p you in s us p e ns e
Until his th u nd er s can be fo r g e d an ew
To h ur l P rom e thea n doom on you r s a nd you ,
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He calls you r l e a d e rs into pa r lia m e nt
To b e his ey e s and hands th e inst r ument
—
Of his u nchanging g r ac e to s e e you r n ee d
And e , e cut e yo u r w ill with seemly s peed
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1
32
OD E TO TH E RUSS IAN PE O PLE
And vo w s h e nc e forth no law shall be decre e d
B ut by th e ir p re sci e nt voic e s fr ee ly gi ve n
Yo u r bonds O mighty peopl e now a r e r iven ,
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Alas , Th e clo ve n hoof of d e spotis m
I s boldly thrust fr om o u t the er min e s fold
Th e sightl e ss d e mon o f im p e rial ism
R e fus e s to r e l e a se his blighting hold
On R ussia s ble e ding throat Too late too lat e
O Cza r thy manife st shall p rove thy fat e ,
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Canst thou p rorogu e a p e ople s parlia m e nt ,
Canst tho u alone dec re e th e e mpir e s la w s ,
Canst tho u defe at a p e opl e s high int e nt
An d render n u ll a nd void e ach se ver al cla us e
Tha t gua ra nt e es thei r free dom
Canst thou m ak e
And u nmake councils courts a nd ca binets
Thy c r eatur e s th w a r t th e peopl e s will a nd br e a k
E ach s e veral pl e d ge , Thy c unning h and ab e ts
This monst r ous de e d this most col o ssal crime
Of throttling a n ew birth o f lagga r d Time
Throw dow n the ga u ntl e t , Th ey shall take it u p
And w hen tho u d rin k e st wine again red b loo d shall
fill th e c u p
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The Eng li s h St u ar t wa s a bab e in cr aft
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34
.
O, ,
TO TH E RUS S I AN PE O PLE
O n ot i n a day
Not in a day go o d frie n d s
The de s tined conflict e nds
B u t th ro ug h l o ng fail u r e and de feat
The , ictor s crown is m ade more sw e e t
Its t ou ch mo re bl a nd
T o pa t rio t b r ows ,
L ong b e the stru ggle sw eet the pa t ri o t s re s t
When victory comes to th e oppr ess ed
When hate i s q u enched within the s u bj ect s b re a st
As th e t yra n t cows
A n d th e vict o r ca n b e j us t
T o fallen crow nl e s s d us t
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Th e preg n a n t mom e n t nea rs
H eavy w ith hopes an d fe a rs
That s hall th rill the wo rl d to cheer s
Or l oo sen a ch o r u s o f s neer s
All eye s a re s tr a i n ed t o watch
A l l ea rs a re b e n t t o catch
The first sw i ft si gn o f ki n dling l i gh t
The firs t pr o phetic word o f mi ght
I f any d r e a m e d t ha t l ik e a sluggi sh b east
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O , , T O T H,
RUS S IAN PE O PLE
The
35
p a t ie n t R uss w ou l d s leep b ene a th the las h
Hi s foo lish drea m is b r o ke n
By th e p o tent w o rd now s poke n
Fr o m Finlan d to the u t m o st E a s t
Fr o m arc t ic s ea s t o E u , ine s s u nny shore
Ha th p ass ed t hat ele m e n tal fla s h
O f m i g hty hope a n d ty r a nny sh a ll b e n o m o re
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Co m e t og ether ye br a ve e l ect
Cha r g ed wi t h p owers t o b u i l d a re al m
Hi gher th a n pa rt y a n d broa der th a n s ect
That sto rm s o f fa t e sh a ll not o verwhel m
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Co me t o yo u r old hi s t o ric h a ll
Sch o la r a nd a rti sa n pea s ant and p r ince
C om e to ans wer y o ur people s call
Wi th co u r ag e C a esa r t o c o nvince
Th a t fa te s t a nds g a r b ed a s a citi , en
S pea k with sobe r m i g ht l i ke m en
Who know t h eir d u ty a n d kn owing d a re
To r oy a l e a rs the tr u th decla re
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A nd whe n yo u r imperi a l P eepin g T om
With eye al a r m ed peep s thr oug h so me , hin k
L et hi m behold y ou gra ve a nd cal m
L ike m en who nobl y ac t a n d think
W ith he a rt s et s in gly on s ta b le goo d
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O , , T O T H,
6
3
RUS S IAN
P
EOP , E
Fa r looking peace f o r th e m u ltit u de
And if his sta rtled ea r is held
To hea r fat e s sylla bl e s o u tspelled
By p roph e t lips percha nce i m p el l ed
To g ha stly ma rtyrd o m O let him hea r
The peopl e s mandate voi d O f fea r
S pea k lo u d that h e may catch the note
Above the cla mors of Reaction s th r oat
That ba w ls inc es sant in ba ffl ed ra ge
T O d r own th e voice O f F r eedom s host
D e moc r a cy th row down thy g ag e
And da re all H e ll i n to th e lists ,
The day is thine what e er the cost
An d dawnlight b r ea king th ro ug h the mists
Will show God s r e compense for what wa s lost
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An d if his Cossacks s ummon at the door
To q u ench thy light fo revermore
Rem e mb er to what end thy s ee r s we r e sent ,
Ou r E nglish Cha rles once ha d a pa rl i a ment ,
,
N
yet alas , not y e t
The s u n O f tyranny is s et
Th e twili ght gather s r ou nd the t h r on e
ot
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O, ,
TO TH E RUS S IAN PE O PLE
37
B u t when the ho u r o f night c om e s on
W h a t p rophet da r e predict th e d a wn ,
,
Somewhat have I a gainst the e t o o
Th e a pocalyptic a ngel s aith ,
I know thy w o rks what tho u wo u l dst do
I k n ow thy hope s th e tan gled cl u e
Th ou s eekest in t his night O f d r ea d
B e h o l d tho u s eekest only b r ea d ,
And when thy sta rvin g sons a re fed
Ca nst tho u with s w eet a b undance filled
Still strik e fo r free dom with holy passion
For he r still b ur n w ith q u enchles s , e a l
Still st rug gl e valia ntly t o fa s hio n
Th e bulwa rks of th e common w eal
T o con s u mmate what tho u hast willed
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Tho u w o uldst be free , Then be indeed ,
All men w ill waft thee fairest s peed
Th e bonda ge o f thy a ncient faith
Ca st o ff a s gyv e s ere tho u ind ue
The sac re d ve s tme n ts o f the free ,
Some loftier vi s ion o f God m u st sha ke
Thy s o u l to inne r fr eedom ere tho u wa ke
To see how a r d uo us F r eedom s rites
How j ealous a nd how stern is she
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8
3
O , , T O T H,
RUS S IAN
P
E OP , E
How s wift s he he l p s h ow s u re she sm ite s
Whe n to he r alt a rs men a re tr u e
N o land can live hal f b o nd hal f free
I n b o nd to m itre f re e d f ro m cr ow n
When crow n a nd mitre need s mus t be
The s ymbol o f God s fir m u nity ,
Then ca s t t h e d ou ble desp o t down ,
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God
s pe a k s no more th r oug h cr ow n ed kin g s
A n d mitered prie s ts o f sacred th i ngs
He dwells in every c o nscio us s ou l
He s pe a ks b y w o rd He w o rks by d eed
T o fa s hion world s t o sta ke their goa l
A n d na ti o n s t o Hi s p u rpo s e le a d
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Tho u w ou ld s t be free , The n be indeed ,
G o d s pe a ks not thro u gh a nointed ki n gs
An d p riest s an d yet o f sac r ed thi ngs
He s pea k s a nd blessed they wh o hea r
A n d answer t o H i s s u mm o n s cle a r
Yet som e there b e a m o n g thy s ons
W h o dee m that law i s fr eedom s foe ,
Beh ol d for the s e no fre s h hopes glow
N O th rea d O f gold a n d p u rple r un s
I n s p l endor th rou gh the web o f life
B u t ever with God a nd f are a t stri fe
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TO TH E
, U SS I AN
P
EOP , E
SO
TO
TO
39
do o med in sa d fu til i ty
cha fe in bonds t hey cann o t b re a k
feel a t hirst t hey ca n n o t slake
They da s h thei r s t rength ince ssa n t ly
Again s t the g r a nite o f the cra g
With hea rts that n e ver fa int o r fla g
I n false re b ellion c ount ed liberty ,
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Th ou sw e a re st lo u d t ho u w o ul ds t b e free
And yet tho u ca ns t n o t clea rly see
A b rother in th e a ncient race
Who s e loin s b ro ug h t fo rth t h e sain t ly o n e
Who s e m art yred day s so sw iftly ru n
Fo r l o ve s s weet s a ke i n Gali l ee
But s p it t e st i n hi s gui ltle s s face
An d p l o t t es t horror s o f bl ood a n d sh a m e
Beyond the t o ng ue of m a n t o n am e ,
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Th ou wo ul d s t be free , The n b e i n deed ,
The hea rts o f dis t a nt pe o p l es plea d
Cr u sh o ut tha t b la ck drop fro m thy b loo d
That life s red tide O f lov e m ay flo o d
Thy civic hea rt a nd w holly clean s e
Th a t fe n o f bl i ght an d pe s t i le n ce ,
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O, ,
4o
TO TH E RUSS IAN PE O PLE
O s peed t h e light to those in n igh t ,
T u r n b e a s t s o f bu rden in t o m en
An d ou r b est hopes shall bur n again
O u r faith s ha l l t u rn at la s t to si ght
,
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N
yet a la s , n ot y e t
The s u n of tyra n ny i s s et
B ut s wi ft a s d oom
The de e pest gl oom
Sh a l l whi t e n i n to radi a n t da w n ,
ot
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Somehow s om e ti m e
I f tho u b u t dare
A s s u re as G o d s w ill ma rches o n
Tri um ph an t s till in e ve ry clim e
Thy fu t u re Olgry s hall ful fill o u r prayer ,
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God s ma r ch a cross t h e a g e s
Is s ometimes ma r k e d with blood
When r i gh t e ou s battl e ra ge s
Fo r Freedo m an d t h e tr am p l ed Right
T h ere G o d s t an d s i n His a m p le mi gh t
T o b less t h e pur ple flo o d
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