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?