The lofty form is well filled out

Of the Controller of the Knout.

He ranks among the Dí Majores,

And in despotic power he glories;

He once was worshipped by the Tories.

He banquets on celestial fare,

His Nectar's Clicquot, potion rare!

And his Ambrosia's caviare.

As to the Russian God's costume,

It is a cocked hat and a plume,