Long he has lain asleep, Bound by the million threads Of tyranny And little kings, Albeit his sleep was restless, Troubled by dreams of freedom And the stings Of innumerable wrongs. Sleeping, they thought him helpless. He lay upon the ground Inert and bound, And all their drunken songs And revels could not wake him. There was not any power Could make him Arise, avenge his wrongs. But now the giant wakes From his long nap. His shoulders heave, his great arms stretch, His cobweb fetters snap. A century's thirst he slakes. The tiny bureaucrats and little kings Fall neck-and-heels, (And O! the glory and the wonder of it! Freedom sings, And all creation! And every free heart thrills In every nation, On every sea.) After his sodden sleep of serfdom and oppression Russia stands upright -- Free! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GREEN MOUNTAIN IDYL by HAYDEN CARRUTH SONG OF THE WAVE by ROBERT FROST THE SEASONS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON A LITTLE GIRL'S PRAYER by KATHERINE MANSFIELD SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: EPILOGUE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |