One building alone had escaped from the fires, Saint Sophy's fair church, with its steeples and spires, Calm, stately, and white, It stood in the light; And as if 'twould defy all the conqueror's power,-- As if nought had occurred, Might clearly be heard The chimes ringing soberly every half-hour! XVI. The city was defunct--silence succeeded Unto its last fierce agonizing yell; And then it was the conqueror first heeded The sound of these calm bells. [How the Cossack chief bade them burn the church too.] Furious towards his aides-de-camp he turns, And (speaking as if Byron's works he knew) "Villains!" he fiercely cries, "the city burns, Why not the temple too? Burn me yon church, and murder all within!" [How they stormed it, and of Hyacinth, his anger thereat.] The Cossacks thundered at the outer door; And Father Hyacinth, who, heard the din, (And thought himself and brethren in distress, Deserted by their lady patroness) Did to her statue turn, and thus his woes outpour. XVII. [His prayer to the Saint Sophia.] "And is it thus, O falsest of the saints, Thou hearest our complaints? Tell me, did ever my attachment falter To serve thy altar? Was not thy name, ere ever I did sleep, The last upon my lip? Was not thy name the very first that broke From me when I awoke? Have I not tried with fasting, flogging, penance, And mortified counténance For to find favor, Sophy, in thy sight? And lo! this night, Forgetful of my prayers, and thine own promise, Thou turnest from us; Lettest the heathen enter in our city, And, without pity, Murder out burghers, seize upon their spouses, Burn down their houses! Is such a breach of faith to be endured? See what a lurid Light from the insolent invader's torches Shines on your porches! E'en now, with thundering battering-ram and hammer And hideous clamor; With axemen, swordsmen, pikemen, billmen, bowmen, The conquering foemen, O Sophy! beat your gate about your ears, Alas! and here's A humble company of pious men, Like muttons in a pen, Whose souls shall quickly from their bodies be thrusted, Because in you they trusted. Do you not know the Calmuc chiefs desires-- KILL ALL THE FRIARS! And you, of all the saints most false and fickle, Leave us in this abominable pickle." [The statue suddenlie speaks;]