I've had a dream that bodes no good I may be wrong, but I confess As far as it is right or lawful For one, no conjuror, to guess— It seems to me extremely awful. Methought, upon the Neva's flood VOL. VIII. 5 A dome of frost-work, on the plan Of that once built by Empress Anne,* Which shone by moonlight-as the tale is— In this said palace-furnish'd all And lighted as the best on land are— The thought was happy, and design'd "It is well known that the Empress Anne built a palace of ice, on the Neva, in 1740, which was fifty-two feet in length, and when illuminated had a surprising effect.”—PIN KERTON. And all were pleased, and cold, and stately, Nor gave one thought to the foundation. Much too the Czar himself exulted, To all plebeian fears a stranger, As Madame Krudener, when consulted, Had pledged her word there was no danger. So, on he caper'd, fearless quite, Thinking himself extremely clever, And waltz'd away with all his might, As if the frost would last for ever. Just fancy how a bard like me, Who reverence monarchs, must have trembled, To see that goodly company At such a ticklish sport assembled. Nor were the fears, that thus astounded For, lo! ere long, those walls so massy Were seized with an ill-omen'd dripping, And o'er the floors, now growing glassy, Their Holinesses took to slipping. The Czar, half through a Polonaise, Could scarce get on for downright stumbling, And Prussia, though to slippery ways So used, was cursedly near tumbling. Yet still 'twas who could stamp the floor most, This precious brace would hand in hand go; Now-while old ******, from his chair, Intreated them his toes to spare— Call'd loudly out for a fandango. And a fandango, 'faith, they had, So out of all their princely senses. But, ah! that dance-that Spanish dance- A light through all the chambers flamed, Who, bursting into tears, exclaim'd, "A thaw, by Jove!-we're lost, we're lost! “Run, F——! a second Waterloo “Is come to drown you-sauve qui peut !" Why, why will monarchs caper so Crowns, fiddles, sceptres, decorations; Those eagles, handsomely provided With double heads for double dealingsHow fast the globes and sceptres glided Out of their claws on all the ceilings! Proud Prussia's double bird of prey, Tame as a spatch-cock, slunk away; While-just like France herself, when she Proclaims how great her naval skill is— Poor ******* drowning fleurs-de-lys Imagined themselves water-lilies. |