tersburg so gay?
Why those shouts and cannon-thunders,
And the fleet in war array?
Is new glory dawning o'er ye,
Russia's Eagle, Russia's Sword?
Has the stern Swede fled before ye?
Has the foe for peace implored?

Is it Brandt's slight boat, appearing
On the shore that _was_ the Swede's?
Through our young fleet proudly steering
Like a _grandame_ she proceeds.
They, her giant-brood, seem kneeling
'Fore their grandame--black and grim;
And to Science' name are pealing
Cannon-crash and choral hymn.

Is't Poltava, red and glorious,
That he feasts--the Lord of War?
When his Empire's life, victorious,
Saved from Charles the Russian Tsar?
Greet they Catharine's saint, those thunders?
Hath she given a Prince to life?
Of our Giant-Tsar of Wonders,
She, the raven-tressed wife?

No! a Subject's crime remitting,
To the guilty, guilt he sinks;
By a Subject's side he's sitting,
From a Subject's cup he drinks:
And his brow he kisses, smiling,
Gay of heart, and bright of eye;
And he feasts a Reconciling
Like some mighty Victory.

Hence those shouts of joy and wonder;
Hence is Petersburg so gay;
Hence the songs and cannon-thunder,
And the fleet in war array;
Hence the guests in joy assembling;
Hence the full cup of the Tsar;
Hence, with cannon-crash, is trembling
All the Neva from afar.

* * * * *

The following lines (which are not without a kind of fantastic
prettiness of their own) do not seen to need any remark or explanation,
unless it be the circumstance of the poet's qualifying the sky of St
Petersburg with the epithet of _pale-green_. It may be observed that
this peculiar tint (exactly enough expressed by the adjective) has
struck almost all the strangers who have visited the northern capital,
and has been repeatedly noticed by travellers; as, for instance, Kohl,
Custine, &c. &c. Our readers will find the singular colour of the St
Petersburg atmosphere (particularly observable in the winter, or at
night) very well described in Sir George Lefevre's amusing "Notes of a
Travelling Physician." This greenish tint is as peculiar to the banks of
the Neva, as is the reddish-black to the neighbourhood of Birmingham or
the Potteries; or the yellowish-brown (in November--"let rude ears be
absent!") to the environs of the Thames:--

"TOWN OF STARVING, TOWN OF SPLENDOUR!"

Town of starving, town of splendour