Page:Songs of Russia.djvu/20

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SONGS OF RUSSIA

Resound with indignation’s sacred fire,
And ring with teardrops heartfelt and sincere.

Not unto me such power of speech is given;
My voice is weak to plead the cause of truth.
My soul indeed is ready for the strife,
But in me fails the energy of youth.

Within my breast is but a barren sob,
Upon my lips, reproach that cannot save,
And in my heart the sad acknowledgment
That I am not a prophet, but a slave.

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