SONG
207
Let everyone of us hold firmly in his hands the most sacred standard of humanity, let him not extinguish within his bosom the lambent flame that calls us to a triumph of good over evil.
Song.
By Count Alexis Tolstoy.
Translated by Lindsay S. Perkins.
Clearer sounds the skylark's trilling;
Flowers of springtime bloom more fair,
Hearts with inspiration filling;
Heavens full of beauty rare.
Broken are the bonds of sadness;
Laid aside all fetters low;
New life's current runs with gladness
In a full, triumphant flow.
Chiming fresh, young power attending,
Mighty harmonies arise,
Like to music, strains ascending
From the earth unto the skies.
