He trembled to think on his tottering throne!
And the widows of Russia are loud in their cries,
Though idle the tears that may flow from their eyes;
And the might of the tyrant, down-struck by the gun,
Hath melted, like butter when placed in the sun.
Diogenes. October, 1853.
The Blizzard.
The blizzard came down like a thousand of brick:
His breathings were cakes of ice four inches thick,