endor 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 obey'd. 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 wandering cease, She binds the wild marauder fast; Her ploughshares turn to homes of peace The battle-fields of ages past.
And, nobler far, 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, No