, T H T , O , O P , OP , , U SS I AN , O HN W I , , I A , S , HO , , 1 thor o c am s , , f , , ‘ 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 , , B O S T O N The P Company P ublisher s o et , o re ot h er et c . 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, ’ ’ - fell , 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 , 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 ’ . , . II 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 , , , , , ‘ . , ’ , ’ 6 O, , TO T H, RUS S IAN PE O PLE 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 , , - , , , III 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 u stic e st r onge r is than ste e l , 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 A - . ’ ’ . . , . ’ . , , , . OD E TO T H, 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 , - , . 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 . , , , - , ’ , - ’ . 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 , 8 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 . 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 , - , , , , , , ’ , , - , , , , , , , , , - , - , OD E TO TH E RUS S IAN PE O PLE The fr u it s of pea c e Who se blessings n e ver cease . 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 - , , , , , ’ . . 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 ’ , , . , , ’ ’ The pe o ple s drea m The pe o ple s will ’ , , . , 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 , ’ , ’ , 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 , , , , , , , , , ’ , , . 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 ’ , ’ - , , , . 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 . . , 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 ’ , , . 1 1 12 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 . ’ , , , , . OD E TO T H, RUS S IAN PE O PLE 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 , ’ , , . , , , , , , ’ . ’ . , . 3 I 4 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 , , , - , , , . , , ’ , , , , , , . 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 , , - . , ’ OD E TO TH E RUS S IAN PE O PLE 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 , , , , , . . , , . . ’ . . ’ , ’ , . 1 5 1 6 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 , . . , ’ , , ’ , , . 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 , , , , ’ ’ . - , 1 OD E TO TH E RUSS IAN PE O PLE 8 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 —a 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 , , , , , , , , 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 , , , , , , , 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 , , , , , , , ‘ , ’ , , , OD E TO TH E RUS S IAN PE O PLE 1 9 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 - - , , , , . 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 - , . . 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 , . . O, , 20 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 ’ . , . ’ . ’ , . 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 , , , ’ , , , 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 , , , , , , ’ , 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 . . . 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 , , 21 22 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 l , , . 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 - , , ’ , , , . 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 . . , , , , , , OD E TO TH E RUS S IAN PE O PLE 23 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 . , , , . ’ . ’ 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 , , ’ . ’ , , ’ . 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 ’ , - , . 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 , , . ’ 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 , , , ’ , . 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 , , . , . , - , . 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 , . , . ’ . , , 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 , ’ . ’ , 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 ’ , , , - . 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 . , ’ , . , , - 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 , ’ ’ , ’ 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 , , ’ , , , . 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 , , . 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 , , 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 , ‘ ’ , , I 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 , ’ , , ’ , , , , ’ , , o 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 , ’ ’ ’ . , 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 , . , , , , , , , ’ . . , ’ ’ ’ 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 - , , ’ - - . , ’ . 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 , , - ’ , , , , 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 — , , , 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 , , . , , 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 , ’ . ’ , . , , 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 ’ ’ ’ , , ’ , , , . The Eng li s h St u ar t wa s a bab e in cr aft , 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 , , , , ’ , ’ , , , ’ , . , I, 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 , , . , , , . 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 , . , ’ , 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 , , , . 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 , , , ’ . , . 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 , , , . 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 - . ’ , , ’ , . ’ ’ . , ’ , ’ 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 , . , . 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 , , , , , . , , , , , 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 . , ’ , , 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 , , . , , ‘ , , ’ 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 , . , , , , . 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 ‘ , , . ’ , , , , , O, , ‘ 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 , , , , 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 , , , ’ , , 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 , , , ’ , 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 , . 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 , , 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 , , , , ’ , ,,I 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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