DREAD inmate of the northern zone! And hast thou left thine ancient throne On Zembla's hills of snow, Thine arrowy sleet and icy shower On us, unbroken to thy power, With reckless hand to throw? Enough for us thy milder sway, The yellow mist, the shorten'd day, The sun of fainter glow; The frost which scarce our verdure felt, And rarely seen, and but to melt, The wreath of transient snow. I met thee once by Volga's tide, Nor fear'd thy terrors to abide On Valdai's sullen brow; But little thought on English down Thy darkest wrath and fiercest frown So soon again to know. Oh for my @3schube's@1 accustom'd fold, Which then, in ample bear-skin roll'd, Defied thy dread career! Oh for the cap of sable warm, Which guarded then from pinching harm My nose, and cheek, and ear! Mine old @3kibitka@1, where art thou? Gloves, boots, @3peketch@1, -- I need ye now, -- Sold to a Lemberg Jew! In single vest, on Ashley Heath, My shrinking heart is cold as death, And fingers ghastly blue! |