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IVAN THE CZAR.
181




IVAN THE CZAR.



Gieb diesen Todten mir heraus. Ich muss
Ihn wieder haben! ** * *
* * * * Trostlose allmacht,
Die nicht einmal in Grüber ihren arm
Verlängern, eine kleine Ubereilung
Mit Menschenleben nicht verbessern kann!
Schiller.



He sat in silence on the ground,
    The old and haughty Czar;
Lonely, tho' princes girt him round,
    And leaders of the war:
He had cast his jewell'd sabre,
    That many a field had won,
To the earth beside his youthful dead,
    His fair and first-born son.