Poems (Proctor)/The Russian's Dream of Constantinople

by Edna Dean Proctor

THE RUSSIAN'S DREAM OF CONSTANTINOPLE.

Hail to the glorious morning
 When the Cross again shall shine
On the summit of Saint Sophia,
 O city of Constantine!
And that day of sack and slaughter
 When the wild, despairing cries
Of "Kyrie Eleison!" fainter
 Went wailing up to the skies,
Shall be lost in the splendid triumph
 As the Church reclaims her own,
And the Patriarch welcomes our Lord, the Czar,
 To the Cæsars' ancient throne!

Shame to the laggard Latins!
 Shame to the grovelling Greeks!
The crescent above Sophia's dome
 Their foul dishonor speaks!
But, over Holy Russia,
 Its Cross triumphant towers,
And the creed and the crown of Constantine
 Alike shall yet be ours;
And the grandeur of our dominion
 For the woes of the past atone,
When the Patriarch welcomes our Lord, the Czar,
 To the Cæsars' ancient throne!

In the sky of the south, at midnight,
 We have seen God's flaming sign,
And we know He will drive the Moslem horde,
 In wrath, from his sacred shrine!
Silent will be the muezzin
 As the sun on Asia sets;
Folded the crescent banner;
 Crumbled the minarets.
Then, under that dome of glory,
 Victorious chants we 'll raise,
While the saints look down with loving eyes,
 And the gems of the altar blaze!
Hail to the day when the Eagles
 And the Cross shall gain their own,
As the Patriarch welcomes our Lord, the Czar,
 To the Cæsars' ancient throne!