There are in Moscow seventy Apostles,[117]
Besides the three Sanctified;
And there is in Moscow still an orthodox Tsar.”
And you fled, you dog, Crimea’s tsar,
Not over the highways, nor the main road,
Nor following the black standard.
THE SONG OF THE PRINCESS KSÉNIYA BORÍSOVNA[118]
There weepeth a little bird,
A little white quail:
“Alas, that I so young must grieve!