An Ode.
From the Russian of Boris Fedorow.

Quiet Don!
Azure Don!
Who dost glide
Deep and wide,
To the proud
Cossack crowd
Drink which cheers,
Path which bears.

Quiet Don!
Azure Don!
Glory be
To thy sons,
Cossacks free
Warrior ones;
The world mute
Of their deeds
Hears the bruit--
Wide it speeds.

Light, I wot,
Hands they've not;
Down they fly
Thundringly,
Foes to crush,
E'en as rush