And, trembling, ills yet greater waited,

For all was lost, nor could they hope

Fresh homes, or food, or help to find.

In that year of woe and horror,

Tsar Alexander ruled in fame.

From palace window, sick at heart

And grieved, he looked, and muttered low:

"Before dread Nature, might of Tsars

Is naught and vain!" And long he sate,

And, sobbing, watched the ruin spread.

The city squares were changed to lakes,

The streets in broad streams swam, and like

Abandoned isle the palace stood.

I then spake the Tsar.... From point to point,

Along the near and distant streets

Two tried and trusty lords, in boat

Began to make their dang'rous way

To save the wretches lost in fear,

And drowning in their battered homes.

Meanwhile in Petroff's gloomy square,

Where the new, huge building rises,

And where, on either side of porch,

There stands, on pedestal high reared,

With upraised paw, as large as life,

A lion guardian, on the watch:

Upon the brute's wide marble back,

Without a cap, hands clasped round mane,

Evjenie sate, all pale and still.

And if his cheeks were wan with fright,

It was not l'or himself he feared.

He had not seen the thirsty waves

Loud howling rise above his feet;

Nor felt the torrents lash his face;