Now Russian Pete was tall and strong of limb, Nor more than half as old as Uncle Jim, Of noble stature and commanding brow, With knees which in no genuflections bow. His face was sad, the index of a breast Where memory's fires were raging unsuppressed. With eyes which search in closest scrutiny, Nor yet offend the object they would see. One, who from feature, act and equipoise, Had known life's sorrows better than its joys. A man whom you would notice in the street, And know the second time if you should meet. This man of mystery and intellect Arose, and stood in manhood's poise erect. In tone of voice so musical and clear It might have charmed the most exacting ear, And wealth of language few can hope to reach, Nor trace of foreign accent in his speech, He forthwith spake: "My simple tale shall be, Not one of love, but dire captivity. Like Uncle Jim's, however, it contains The cause why I forsook my native plains. No tender web of sentiment, but one By treachery and machination spun. Across the sea, in distant realms afar, In the remote dominions of the Czar, Past where the Dnieper rolls his murky flood, Surcharged with fertilizing silt and mud, Past the dark forests and productive plains, Which he with many a tributary drains; Within that city whose inhabitants, With flaming torch, withstood the arms of France, Preferring ruin to the victor's boast, Or occupation by an alien host. Fair Moscow, which became a funeral pyre, And perished in her self-ignited fire, That her invaders, chilled by snow and sleet, Might sink in irretrievable defeat. A few years since, the date concerns us not, A minor detail readily forgot, Beneath the shadow of her noblest spire, There dwelt two students, children of one sire. With prospects fair at manhood's budding edge, In caste esteemed of no base parentage; Two students, versed in languages, and planned For consul service in a distant land, As foreign usages are studied most, When one aspires to diplomatic post. Thus eagerly, did we acquire the tongue Of you, whom I address and live among. With lucubrations diligent, we sought Our ways up varied avenues of thought, Until by prejudice no longer bound, We stood at last upon dissenting ground; Or wavered, where reluctant doubts confuse, In that strange zone of ruminating views, Where progress and established custom meet; Yes, crossed its boundaries with reckless feet.