A THOUSAND years! Through storm and fire, With varying fate, the work has grown, Till Alexander crowns the spire, Where Rurik laid the corner-stone. The chieftain's sword, that could not rust, But bright in constant battle grew, Raised to the world a throne august, -- A nation grander than he knew. Nor he, alone; but those who have, Through faith or deed, an equal part: The subtle brain of Yaroslav, Vladimir's arm and Nikon's heart: The later hands, that built so well The work sublime which these began, And up from base to pinnacle Wrought out the Empire's mighty plan. All these, to-day, are crowned anew, And rule in splendor where they trod, While Russia's children throng to view Her holy cradle, Novgorod. From Volga's banks; from Dwina's side; From pine-clad Ural, dark and long; Or where the foaming Terek's tide Leaps down from Kasbek, bright with song: From Altai's chain of mountain-cones; Mongolian deserts, far and free; And lands that bind, through changing zones, The Eastern and the Western sea! To every race she gives a home, And creeds and laws enjoy her shade, Till, far beyond the dreams of Rome, Her Caesar's mandate is obeyed. She blends the virtues they impart, And holds, within her life combined, The patient faith of Asia's heart, -- The force of Europe's restless mind. She bids the nomad's wanderings cease; She binds the wild marauder fast; Her ploughshares turn to homes of peace The battle-fields of ages past. And, nobler yet, she dares to know Her future's task, nor knows in vain; But strikes at once the generous blow That makes her millions men again! So, firmer-based, her power expands, Nor yet has seen its crowning hour, -- Still teaching to the struggling lands That Peace the offspring is of Power. Build, then, the storied bronze, to tell The steps whereby this height she trod, -- The thousand years that chronicle The toil of man, the help of God! And may the thousand years to come -- The future ages, wise and free -- Still see her flag, and hear her drum Across the world, from sea to sea! Still find, a symbol stern and grand, Her ancient eagle's wings unshorn: One head to watch the Western land, And one to guard the land of morn! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LONESOME CHILD by KATHERINE MANSFIELD NOTHING BUT LEAVES by LUCY EVELINA AKERMAN THE PRISONER (A FRAGMENT) by EMILY JANE BRONTE THE HARLEM DANCER by CLAUDE MCKAY LOVE'S CALENDAR by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 2. THE GASTRIC MUSE by JOHN ARMSTRONG MY HIDING PLACE AND ME by BARBARA BROOKS BIXLEY |