The Dispute

Once 'mid group of native mountains
  Hot dispute arose,
Elbrus, angry, did with Kasbek
  Argument propose.
"Now beware!" the hoary Elbrus,
  Warning did exclaim--
"To enslave thee and enthrall thee
  Is man's evil aim!
Smoking huts he will be building
  On thy mountain side,
Loudly through thy clefts resounding
  Ring his hatchet wide!
The swift swinging iron shovel
  Breast of stone will part,
Of thy bronze and stone will rob thee--
  Pierce thee to the heart.
Caravans, e'en now, are passing
  Through thy rocks afar,
Where before the fogs were swimming--
  And the Eagle Tsar.
Ah, mankind is bold and fearless!
  Dreads no lifted hand,
Guard thee! populous and mighty
  Is the morning land!"
"Threatens me the East?" then queried
  Kasbek with disdain,
"There eight centuries already
  Sleeping, man has lain.
See, in shadow the Grusine
  Gloats in lustful greed,
On his many coloured raiment
  Glints the winey bead!
Drugged with fumes of his nargileh,
  Dreams the Mussulman--
By the fountains on his divan
  Slumbers Teheran.
See! Jerusalem is lying
  At his feet o'erthrown--
Deathly dumb and lifeless staring
  As an earthly tomb.
And beyond the Nile is washing
  O'er the burning steps
Of the Kingly mausoleums,
  Yellow, shadowless.
In his tent, the hunt forgotten--
  Now the Bedouin lies,
Sings the old ancestral legends,
  Scans the starry skies.
See! far as the eye can venture,
  All sleeps as before--
No, the threat of dreaming Orient
  Frights me nevermore!"
"Laugh thou not too early, Kasbek,"
  Elbrus did persist--
"Look! What vast mass is it turning
  Northward, through the mist?"
Secretly the heart of Kasbek
  Faltered,--as amazed,
Silent and with dark foreboding
  To the North he gazed:
Full of woe stared in the distance;
  What a thronging swarm!
Hark! there rings the clash of weapons!
  Battle-cry alarm!
From the Don unto the Ural
  What a human sea!
Regiments that wave and glitter
  Past all counting be!
Feathers white like sedge of ocean,
  Waving in a gust--
Many coloured Uhlans storming
  Through the blowing dust.
The imperial battalions
  Densely packed proceed,
Trumpets flaring, banners flying
  In the victor's lead.
Batteries with brasses rattling
  Conquering advance,
With their blood-red splendor flashing
  Cannon matches glance.
And a battle-proved commander
  Leads the army there--
From whose eyes the lightning flashes,
  'Neath his snowy hair.
Swells the host until as Griesbach's
  Billows roaring loud,
From the Eastward nears the army
  As a thunder cloud.
Kasbek peered with sinister boding
  Through the clouds,--would fain
Count his enemies approaching--
  Found it was in vain:
Threw one glance unto the mountains--
  Anguished, overcome,
O'er his brow drew close the vapours,
  Was forever dumb.