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[IV. Still Spring returns, and scatters wide its roses]

“Piekny to widok Czertomeliku,
Sto wysp przerz'nely Dniepru strumienie,
Brzoza sie kapie w kaz'dym strumyku,
Slychac szum trzciny, slowika pienie.”
—Slowacki. “How beautiful this view of Czertomelik!
The Dnieper's streams divide a hundred islands;
In every stream the birch-tree dips its branches;
We hear the murmuring reed, and night-bird warbling.”

Still Spring returns, and scatters wide its roses;
The nightingale in leafy thicket sings,

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And heavenward mounts the lark on quivering wings;
In flowery pomp the silent plain reposes.
Nature is still the same, unchanging ever;
She brings her gifts with each returning year,
And lavish pours her horn of plenty here,
By castled hill and silver-sheeted river.
Still lordly Dnieper rolls as wild and free,
As when the Polish banner graced its shore;—
That banner waves along its banks no more;
Through isles as green it seeks the Pontic sea.
Nature is ever free!—Why should the brave
And noble heart of Poland sink,—a slave!