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Richard Chenevix Trench (Ричард Ченевикс Тренч) To Nicholas, Emperor of Russia ON HIS REPORTED CONDUCT TOWARDS THE POLES. What would it help to call thee what thou art? When all is spoken, thou remainest still With the same power and the same evil will To crush a nation’s life out, to dispart All holiest ties, to turn awry and thwart All courses that kind nature keeps, to spill The blood of noblest veins, to maim, or kill With torture of slow pain the aching heart. When our weak hands hang useless, and we feel Deeds cannot be, who then would ease his breast With the impotence of words? But our appeal Is unto Him, who counts a nation’s tears, With whom are the oppressor and opprest, And vengeance, and the recompensing years. Richard Chenevix Trench's other poems:
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