THE CZAR AND THE BRITISH LION

Observer, Volume 7, Issue 333, 25 April 1885, Page 10

THE CZAR AND THE BRITISH LION

(Slightly altered from Gerald Massey.) The Czar called to North and South, *•• Come, see the world's great show ! I'll thrust my head in the lion's mouth," And he laughed, " Ha ! ha ! ho ! ho ! I am the Lion tamer dread, I make the o'd brute quail." The Lion shook his incredulous head, > And wagged his dubious tail. The Lion lay down in the pride of his might ; 'Twas a brave magnificent beast. The Lion leapt up to his shaggest height, The lord of a bloody feast, Now hold, now hold, thou desperate man, Or thy braggart cheek may pale ; Terror is towering up in his mane, And vengeance tugs at his tail ! Like a statue of Satan, Alexander stood, And he chuckled a low-lying laugh. v The world is my knoutship's whipping-top — And blood for wine 1 quaff !" He called to North, he called to South, " Come, see the old brute quail ; I'll thrust my head in the Lion's mouth !" The Lion he wagged his tail ! He thrust his head in the Lion's mouth ; And O, but the sport was rare ! The Lion smelt blood in the Giant's breath, And his clenched teeth held him there, Then he cried from between the gates of death, With the voice of a spirit in bale, " Now God-a- mercy on my soul ! Does the Lion wag his tail ?" Then each one strove to say him " Yea," But each one held his breath, For the fires of hell lit the Lion's eyes, His looks communed with death. The Giant's heart melts like snow irk his mouth, ' His voice is a woman's wail ; The avenger knocks at the door of his life In that lash, of the Lion's tale.' A low-dread sound, as from underground, Now signals the realms of the dead ; And the Tamer lies tamed on the earth full length ! That is, except a head, And the poor old Beast, at whose aspect mild ' The meanest thing dared rail, Shakes his mane like a conquerer's bloodyplume, And — quietly wags his tail