The Destruction of Nicholas.
The Russian came down like a thief in the night,
And his legions were arm’d with all weapons, save Right;
And the sheen of their spears to the Turks seem’d afar
Like the passion that burn’d in the heart of the Czar.
Like the loaves of the baker, when breakfast is laid,
That host in their armour of “plate” were array’d;
Like the loaves of the baker, ere tea time next day,
That host lay all “cut up,” and crumbled away!
For the warcry of England is borne on the air,