For every happy day and sunny hour,
Fate will exact in grief and tears his pay.
I’m sad because I see my loved one gay!
MOSCOW.
Moscow, I love thee with a filial love,
Strong, burning, tender, which a Russian knows!
I love the holy gleam thy brows above,
Thy battled Kremlin in its calm repose.
In vain the foreign Potentate[6] essayed,
Great Russian giant of a thousand years,