Though heaven above be brightly blue,
'Tis writ upon your palace walls—
Dark is the doom prepared for you!
Howe'er it be, it seems to me
The truly great are truly good;
God watches o'er those minarets
When Christian faith sheds Turkish blood.
I know you, haughty Russian Czar!
You sigh to leave your frozen towers;
Short-sighted are your bloated eyes,