Page:The poems of Richard Watson Gilder, Gilder, 1908.djvu/195

Rh PART III

(January 22, 1905)

The great word is uttered, at last!

White Czar! O, where hast thou fled?

Thy children, heart-broken,

To thee their sorrows have spoken!

To thee it is said—

That on the wings of the blast!

For the word is their fearful cry,

And the word is their innocent blood.

O, red is the chalice

Lifted up to thy empty palace!

Blood, crimson blood,

On the snows where the murdered lie!

Their shed blood is the word! It is winning

Its way swift from zone unto zone;

Through the world it has thrilled

And the heart of the nations stilled.

Alone, thou alone!

Art thou deaf to the voice and the meaning?

Lo, it swells like the sound of the sea.

Dull monarch! yet, yet, shalt thou hear it.

For, once 'neath the sun

By the brave it is spoken—all's done!

Hear it—and fear it;

For "Freedom" it cries, "We are free!"

CHARLESTON

1886

this the price of beauty! Fairest, thou,

Of all the cities of the sunrise sea,