RUSSIA

I am she whose hands are strong and her eyes blinded

And lips athirst

Till upon the night of nations many-minded

One bright day burst:

Till the myriad stars be molten into one light,

And that light thine;

Till the soul of man be parcel of the sunlight,

And thine of mine.

By the snows that blanch not him nor cleanse from slaughter

Who slays his brother;

By the stains and by the chains on me thy daughter;