Part 36 (1/2)

The storm of 1812 descended a Who was our rock here, who our rod?

Was it the rage the people vented?

Winter, Barclay4 or Russia's G.o.d?

4.

But G.o.d did help a murmurs abated, And, shortly, by the force of things, In Paris we had congregated And Russia's Tsar was king of kings.5 .............................................

5.

And as he fattened,6 life grew heavier, O you, our stupid Russian folk, Say, why for G.o.d's sake did you ever .............................................

6.

Maybe, O s.h.i.+bboleth of the nation, I'll dedicate an ode to you, It seems, though, in antic.i.p.ation A high-born rhymester's done it, too.7 .............................................

To Albion the seas are granted8 .............................................

7.

Maybe the fraud,9 his rents forgetting, Will move into a monastery, Maybe Tsar Nicholas, regretting, Will set Siberia's captives free10 .............................................

Maybe they will repair the highways .............................................

8.

This man of fate, through wars progressing, Before whom Europe's kings would fawn, This horseman, crowned with papal blessing, Gone like a shadow of the dawn, .............................................

Exhausted on the rack of leisure11

9.

The Pyrenees shook with foreboding, Naples' volcano was astir, The one-armed prince was up and nodding From Kis.h.i.+nev to the Morea.

L's dagger... B's shadow12

10.

I'll curb all comers with my people. a Our Tsar said in the congress hall, .............................................