To Moscow

ACROSS the steppe we journeyed,

  The brown, fir-darkened plain

That rolls to east and rolls to west,

  Broad as the billowy main,

When lo! a sudden splendor

  Came shimmering through the air,

As if the clouds should melt and leave

  The heights of heaven bare,—

A maze of rainbow domes and spires

  Full glorious on the sky,

With wafted chimes from many a tower

  As the south-wind went by,

And a thousand crosses lightly hung

  That shone like morning stars,—

’T was the Kremlin wall! ’t was Moscow,—

  The jewel of the Czars!