After Portsmouth
Begirt with bombs that fall and flames that rise,
The Tsar, bewildered, stares. “Alas,” he cries,
“Life withholds joy and death denies release!
And Roosevelt would have me think this peace.”
After Portsmouth
Begirt with bombs that fall and flames that rise,
The Tsar, bewildered, stares. “Alas,” he cries,
“Life withholds joy and death denies release!
And Roosevelt would have me think this peace.”