Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE DEAD CZAR NICHOLAS, by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK Poet's Biography First Line: Lay him beneath his snows Last Line: "cast the first stone." Alternate Author Name(s): Mulock, Dinah Maria Subject(s): Nicholas I, Czar Of Russia (1796-1855) | ||||||||
LAY him beneath his snows, The great Norse giant who in these last days Troubled the nations. Gather decently The imperial robes about him. 'T is but man, -- This demi-god. Or rather it was man, And is -- a little dust that will corrupt As fast as any nameless dust which sleeps 'Neath Alma's grass or Balaklava's vines. No vineyard grave for him. No quiet tomb By river margin, where across the seas Children's fond thoughts and women's memories come Like angels, to sit by the sepulchre, Saying: "All these were men who knew to count, Front-faced, the cost of honor, nor did shrink From its full payment: coming here to die, They died -- like men." But this man? Ah! for him Funereal state, and ceremonial grand, The stone-engraved sarcophagus, and then Oblivion. Nay, oblivion were as bliss To that fierce howl which rolls from land to land Exulting, -- "Art thou fallen, Lucifer, Son of the morning?" or condemning, -- "Thus Perish the wicked!" or blaspheming, -- "Here Lies our Belshazzar, our Sennacherib, Our Pharaoh, -- he whose heart God hardened, So that he would not let the people go." Self-glorifying sinners! Why, this man Was but like other men: -- you, Levite small, Who shut your saintly ears, and prate of hell And heretics, because outside church-doors, Your church-doors, congregations poor and small Praise Heaven in their own way; -- you, autocrat Of all the hamlets, who add field to field And house to house, whose slavish children cower Before your tyrant footstep; -- you, foul-tongued Fanatic or ambitious egotist, Who thinks God stoops from His high majesty To lay His finger on your puny head, And crown it, -- that you henceforth may parade Your maggotship throughout the wondering world, -- "I am the Lord's anointed!" Fools and blind! This Czar, this emperor, this disthroned corpse, Lying so straightly in an icy calm Grander than sovereignty, was but as ye, -- No better and no worse; -- Heaven mend us all! Carry him forth and bury him. Death's peace Rest on his memory! Mercy by his bier Sits silent, or says only these few words, -- "Let him who is without sin 'mongst ye all Cast the first stone." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BY THE ALMA RIVER by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK DOUGLAS, DOUGLAS, TENDER AND TRUE by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK HER LIKENESS by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK NOW AND AFTERWARDS by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK ONLY A WOMAN by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK PHILIP, MY KING by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK A 'MERCENARY' MARRIAGE by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK A CHILD'S SMILE by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK A CHRISTMAS CAROL by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK A DEAD BABY by DINAH MARIA MULOCK CRAIK |
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