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• From him did forty thousand Serfs, endow'd
• Each with six feet of death-claimed earth soil, receive
• Rich lifelong freeborn land, whereon to sheave
• Their country's harvest. Who today are bowed aloud
• Demand of Heaven their Father's blood,—sore bow'd
• With tears & thrilled with wrath; & born to achieve,
• On every guilty head without reprieve
• All torment by his edict s disallow'd.

• He stayed the knout's red-ravening fangs; and first
• 10 Of Russian traitors, his own murderers go
• White to the tomb. While he,—laid foully low
• With limbs red-lopped, with blood-clogged brain which nurs'd
• The nation's charter,—from full Nihil flown,
• No Nought finds now,—a witness at God's throne.

D. G. Rossetti