AUGUST 5, 1866 <br /> <br />THOUGH watery deserts hold apart <br />The worlds of East and West, <br />Still beats the selfsame human heart <br />In each proud Nation's breast. <br /> <br />Our floating turret tempts the main <br />And dares the howling blast <br />To clasp more close the golden chain <br />That long has bound them fast. <br /> <br />In vain the gales of ocean sweep, <br />In vain the billows roar <br />That chafe the wild and stormy steep <br />Of storied Elsinore. <br /> <br />She comes! She comes! her banners dip <br />In Neva's flashing tide, <br />With greetings on her cannon's lip, <br />The storm-god's iron bride! <br /> <br />Peace garlands with the olive-bough <br />Her thunder-bearing tower, <br />And plants before her cleaving prow <br />The sea-foam's milk-white flower. <br /> <br />No prairies heaped their garnered store <br />To fill her sunless hold, <br />Not rich Nevada's gleaming ore <br />Its hidden caves infold, <br /> <br />But lightly as the sea-bird swings <br />She floats the depths above, <br />A breath of flame to lend her wings, <br />Her freight a people's love! <br /> <br />When darkness hid the starry skies <br />In war's long winter night, <br />One ray still cheered our straining eyes, <br />The far-off Northern light. <br /> <br />And now the friendly rays return <br />From lights that glow afar, <br />Those clustered lamps of Heaven that burn <br />Around the Western Star. <br /> <br />A nation's love in tears and smiles <br />We bear across the sea, <br />O Neva of the banded isles, <br />We moor our hearts in thee!<br /><br />Oliver Wendell Holmes<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/america-to-russia/
