Classic Poem

Kiev! upon the Dnieper built,
Thy lofty walls above me tower;
Like silver from the furnace pure,
The river gleams where dark hills lour.

All hail to thee, thou ancient town!
The cradle thou of Russia's fame!
And hail to thee, O Dnieper swift,
The bath, whence glorious Russia came!

In the calm air the songs resound,
The evening bells ring out their note;
" Whence come ye, Pilgrim-Brothers, say,
Your homage who to God devote? "

" I come from where the quiet Don
Glides forth, the beauty of our homes " ;
" I come where stern Yenisey
In boundless waters proudly foams. "

" My home is on the Euxine shore. "
" Mine in those distant realms is found
Where wide-extending ice-fields hold
The sea within their rigid bound. "

" Savage the view of Altay's ridge,
Eternal is the snowy glare;
My native town time-honoured Pskov,
My own dear home is there, is there. "

" I come from cold Ladoga's Lake " ;
" I from the Neva's soft blue face " ;
" I come from Kama's flowing stream " ;
" And I from Moscow's fond embrace. "

All hail, Kiev! most wondrous town,
With turbid stream which Dnieper laves!
Grander than seats imperial are
The silent shadows of thy caves.

We know in night of times gone by,
In darkness of antiquity,
The brightly shining Eastern sun
Glowed ever, Russia, over thee.

And now, from strange, and distant, lands,
From far-off steppes, — from unknown homes, —
From deepest rivers of the North, —
A crowd of praying children comes.

In loving company well met,
We gather in thy sanctuary;
Where are thy sons, Volhynia?
Galich, where is thy progeny?

Woe! woe! as though by savage fires,
They all by Poles consumed are;
By noisy banquetings deceived,
They yield to festive charm and glare.

Captives to sword and treachery,
They are ensnared by falsehood's flame;
They move beneath a foreign flag,
They bow unto a stranger's name.

Awake, Kiev! again arise,
Upon thy fallen children call,
On them let father's tenderness,
With voice of supplication, fall.

Thy sons, erst ravished from thy breast,
Will listen to thy soothing cry;
Will tear asunder cunning chain,
The foreign flag will pass it by;

Will come again, as in past days,
Will in thy love themselves disport,
Will lay their faces in thy lap,
Will bring their vessels to thy port.

And all around their native flag
Thy strong commands they will await;
Their life's full spirit, — spirit's life, —
Will be by thee regenerate!