Who loves his country, who his Empress loves, will throw
His garland on thy brow,
And watch that fame of thine.
But when thou humbledst low the Moslem’s pride and scorn,
And bad’st her crescent sink, her vain and feeble horn,
And pass’dst the Belt again, with songs and hymns of joy,
Who that perceived thy flag, in all its mightiness,—
What Russian could repress
The tears that dimmed his eye?
I see the people rush to welcome thee again,