FROM far Siberia's frozen plains, They cry to heaven, they cry to us! We hear the clanking of their chains And turn away! Not thus, not thus, Our fathers, were your hearts made cold By lust of power, by greed of gold! They have not feared the scaffold rope, Nor cringed for whip or knotted cord; They give up all and keep their hope; They die and call no despot lord; Before the heaven that made men free, They testify for liberty. Who gave their tyrants leave to smite Truth's witnesses with knout or rod? Who says such wrongs are in heaven's right, He lives before the throne of God, And all the blood by despots shed, Shall be a curse upon his head! If to our altar one should come, With the czar's hounds upon his track, Could e'en our buried dead be dumb Were we so base to drive him back, Were we such craven, venal slaves, Among our myriad hero-graves? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A POET, WHO WOULD HAVE ME PRAISE CERTAIN BAD POETS, IMITATORS ... by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS SONNET TO HIS FRIEND R.L. IN PRAISE OF MUSIQUE AND POETRIE by RICHARD BARNFIELD COUNTING THE BEATS by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES THE WATCH OF A SWAN by SARAH MORGAN BRYAN PIATT SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 123 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI STANZAS COMPOSED AT CARNAC by MATTHEW ARNOLD |