Across the sea, in distant realms afar,
In the remote dominions of the Czar,
Past where the Dnieper rolls his murky flood,
Surcharged with fertilizing silt and mud,
Past the dark forests and productive plains,
Which he with many a tributary drains;
Within that city whose inhabitants,
With flaming torch, withstood the arms of France,
Preferring ruin to the victor's boast,
Or occupation by an alien host.