Now the sullen crowds are gone,
Now there's nought to fire upon;
Sweet your sleigh bells ring afar,
Tinkle, tinkle, little Czar.
Little Czar, with soul so small,
How are you a Czar at all?
Yours had been a happier lot
In some peasant's humble cot.
Yet to you was given a day
With a noble part to play,