And France sends her brave in the conflict to share;
And link’d with the Moslem, they shout as they go,
And all Europe is thrill’d with the groans of the foe.
And there lay the sea, but no more on its tide
His vessels shall float in their strength and their pride;
And the foam of its billows shall dash o’er the graves
Of the serfs, who had come to make other men slaves.
And there lay the Czar, all dejected and pale,
With a frown on his brow, and his teeth at his nail;
His palace all silent, deserted, alone;