THE COSSACK'S SONG.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume IV, Issue 180, 8 September 1876, Page 6

THE COSSACK'S SONG.

[fkom the fbbnch op beranger.] Rouse tbee, my horse, the Cossack's noble friend, My at the signal trumpets of the north. Speed to the pillage ; in th' attack offend — Lend wings to death when me thou bearest forth. No gold doth on thy bit or saddle shine, Await from price of my high deeds such things. Neigh in thy pride, O faithful courser mine, And tramp with hoofs o'er peoples and o'er kings. Now peace to me doth fling thy reins and fly, Old Europe's ramparts now are lowly laid. Come fill my greedy hands with treasures high ; Come stall tbee where the arts their home have made. Drink yet once more of Seine's rebellious tide, Where twice thou' st laved thy flanks all gory red, Neigh then my faithful courser in thy pride, And kings and peoples crush with iron tread. Nobles and kings, as if besieged all — Pent in a fort by subjects long opprest — " Come, be our masters " unto us do call, " Slaves will we be that tyrants we may rest." My lance I've taken, all things by its side Press on to low'r the sceptre and the cross. Neigh then my faithful courser in thy pride, And kings and peoples stamp thou in the dross. I saw a giant's monstrous form arise, His glowing eye upon our watch-fires rest, " My reign doth now again begin," he cries, And with his axe he pointeth out the West. It was the King of Huns' immortal shade, Attila's son, I do his voice obey. Beneath thy hoofs be kings and peoples laid, And in thy pride my faithful courser neigh. All the renown that maketh Europe proud. The knowledge all that may no more defend, Shall be engulfed in that thick dust-formed cloud Which round me speedily thy steps shall send. Strike down, strike down in this thy new found way Shrine, palace, manners, mem'ries, all good things. Then in thy pride, my faithful courser neigh, And tramp with hoofs o'er peoples and o'er kings.