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Земли достигнув наконец, |
От бурь спасенный провиденьем, |
Святой владычице пловец |
Свой дар несет с благоговеньем. |
Так посвящаю с умиленьем |
Простой, увядший мой венец |
Тебе, высокое светило |
В эфирной тишине небес, |
Тебе, сияющей так мило |
Для наших набожных очес. |
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Зачем ты, грозный аквилон, |
Тростник прибрежный долу клонишь? |
Зачем на дальний небосклон |
Ты облачко столь гневно гонишь? |
Недавно черных туч грядой |
Свод неба глухо облекался, |
Недавно дуб над высотой |
В красе надменной величался… |
Но ты поднялся, ты взыграл, |
Ты прошумел грозой и славой — |
И бурны тучи разогнал, |
И дуб низвергнул величавый. |
Пускай же солнца ясный лик |
Отныне радостью блистает, |
И облачком зефир играет, |
И тихо зыблется тростник. |
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Утихла брань племен; в пределах отдаленных |
Не слышен битвы шум и голос труб военных; |
С небесной высоты, при звуке стройных лир, |
На землю мрачную нисходит светлый мир. |
Свершилось! Русский царь, достиг ты славной цели! |
Вотще надменные на родину летели; |
Вотще впреди знамен бесчисленных дружив |
В могущей дерзости венчанный исполин |
На гибель грозно шел, влек цепи за собою: |
Меч огненный блеснул за дымною Москвою! |
Звезда губителя потухла в вечной мгле, |
И пламенный венец померкнул на челе! |
Содрогся счастья сын, и, брошенный судьбою, |
Он землю русскую не взвидел под собою. |
Бежит… и мести гром слетел ему вослед; |
И с трона гордый пал… и вновь восстал… и нет! |
Тебе, наш храбрый царь, хвала, благодаренье! |
Когда полки врагов покрыли отдаленье, |
Во броню ополчась, взложив пернатый шлем, |
Колена преклонив пред вышним алтарем, |
Ты браней меч извлек и клятву дал святую |
От ига оградить страну свою родную. |
Мы вняли клятве сей; и гордые сердца |
В восторге пламенном летели вслед отца |
И местью роковой горели и дрожали; |
И россы пред врагом твердыней грозной стали!., |
«К мечам!» — раздался клик, и вихрем понеслись, |
Знамена, восшумев, по ветру развились; |
Обнялся с братом брат; и милым дали руку |
Младые ратники на грустную разлуку; |
Сразились. Воспылал свободы ярый бой, |
И смерть хватала их холодною рукой! |
А я… вдали громов, в сени твоей надежной… |
Я тихо расцветал, беспечный, безмятежный! |
Увы! мне не судил таинственный предел |
Сражаться за тебя под градом вражьих стрел! |
Сыны Бородина, о кульмские герои! |
Я видел, как на брань летели ваши строи; |
Душой восторженной за братьями спешил. |
Почто ж на бранный дол я крови не пролил? |
Почто, сжимая меч младенческой рукою, |
Покрытый ранами, не пал я пред тобою |
И славы под крылом наутре не почил? |
Почто великих дел свидетелем не был? |
О, сколь величествен, бессмертный, ты явился, |
Когда на сильного с сынами устремился; |
И, челы приподняв из мрачности гробов, |
Народы, падшие под бременем оков, |
Тяжелой цепию с восторгом потрясали |
И с робкой радостью друг друга вопрошали: |
«Ужель свободны мы? Ужели грозный пал? |
Кто смелый? Кто в громах на севере восстал?» |
И ветхую главу Европа преклонила, |
Царя-спасителя колена окружила |
Освобожденною от рабских уз рукой, |
И власть мятежная исчезла пред тобой! |
И ныне ты к сынам, о царь наш, возвратился, |
И край полуночи восторгом озарился! |
Склони на свой народ смиренья полный взгляд — |
Все лица радостью, любовию блестят, |
Внемли — повсюду весть отрадная несется, |
Повсюду гордый клик веселья раздается; |
По стогнам шум, везде сияет торжество, |
И ты среди толпы, России божество! |
Встречать вождя побед летят твои дружины |