Babushka

THOU whose sunny heart outglows

Arctic snows;

Russia's hearth-fire, cherishing

Courage almost perishing;

Torch that beacons oversea

Till a world is at thy knee;

Babushka the Belovèd,

What Czar can exile thee?

Sweet, serene, unswerving soul,

To thy goal

Pressing on such mighty pinions

Tyrants quake for their dominions

And devise yet heavier key,

Deeper cell to prison thee,

Babushka the Belovèd,

Thyself art Liberty.

Though thy martyr body, old,

Chains may hold,

Clearer still thy voice goes ringing

Over steppe and mountain, bringing,

Holy mother of the free,

Millions more thy sons to be.

Babushka the Belovèd,

What death can silence thee?