THE Cossack! the Cossack! his steed is his throne; On the steppe and the desert his glory is known; For he sweeps like the wind from the camp to the fray, And woe to the foe and the flying that day! 'False Pagan!' he cries, 'are you slave — are you Shah — Now die by this lance, or take oath to the Czar!' The Cossack! the Cossack! a flame of the South Is the glance of his eye, is the word of his mouth, For the steed that he rides — for the saint he implores — And, fairer, and dearer, the girl he adores. The maiden's fond lover — the Czar's faithful warder — Ho! drink to the Cossack, from border to border! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOU ON THE TOWER by THOMAS HARDY YOUTH by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE BLOOD HORSE by BRYAN WALLER PROCTER EMIGRATION by LISA DOMINGUEZ ABRAHAM SONG-TIME by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH THE CATERPILLAR by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |