XCIII.

But oh, thou grand legitimate Alexander![hd][358] Her son's son, let not this last phrase offend Thine ear, if it should reach--and now rhymes wander Almost as far as Petersburgh, and lend A dreadful impulse to each loud meander Of murmuring Liberty's wide waves, which blend Their roar even with the Baltic's--so you be Your father's son, 't is quite enough for me.