ON A NOBLE CHARACTER MARRED BY LITTLENESS.
As Moscow's splendors trench on narrow lanes, The wonder, brimming every traveller's eyes,To disappointment's sudden darkness wanes At finding meanness near such grandeur lies.
O human city! built on Moscow's plan, Thy great and little touch each other so,Let me forbear, and, as an erring man, Make my approaches wisely, from below,
Hasting through all the narrow and the base Before I stand where all is high and vast:After the dark, let glory light my face, Thy shining greatness break upon me _last_.
CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES.