Classic Poem

O wan White Czar of Russia, who hid your face and ran,
You've flung afar the grandest chance that ever came to man!
You might have been, and could have been — ah, think it to your shame! —
The Czar of all the Russias, in fact as well as name.

" The Father of your People " , your children called to you
To do the things to save them which only you could do.
Your soldiers whipped their faces — the trodden snow is red
With the blood of men and women — and the blood is on your head.

I saw in dreams a monarch, of his power all unaware,
Step down amongst his people from off his palace stair:
The Grand Dukes shrank and trembled, the traitors fled afar —
Through all the mighty Russias rang the order of the Czar!

You might have journeyed freely, wherever path is made,
Through all your vast dominions, alone and unafraid;
And, in the eyes of subjects, the cultured and the rude,
Have seen, instead of hatred, the tears of gratitude.

O little Czar of Russia, a weak man and a fool,
At the mercy of your nobles — their prisoner and a tool —
Your freedom and your people's and their love was to be won:
Ah, me! it would have been a deed a coward might have done.

Yet we who know so little might say one word for you —
How many in our weakness have lost our kingdoms too!
And facing death and exile, when all the world seemed black,
How many in our after-strength have won our kingdoms back!