This poem is interesting, as it breathes the spirit of the revival of popular poetry, with its worship of nature, beauty, and love, of which things the Earth is the personification. Hence the poet exalts Earth above Heaven. Here we see also a change of ideas. The older Christian poets were churchmen and sang contempt of the present world and concentration on the joys of heaven. This new note, struck from the beginning of the fifteenth century, gradually grows bolder, and sounds forth daringly, as we hear it in this poem, which seems all the more remarkable when we remember that its author was a priest. This is the song, not of a lover of vanities, but, rather, of an enthusiast, who loves beauty and has learnt that it is good to live on the earth, because it also contains beautiful things that are worth living for. This poem also shows the conquest of learning and science which, at the time it was written, had found their way into Armenia as well as elsewhere, perhaps through the new Armenian colonies formed in Europe and other parts of the world. Minas Tokhatzi, a humorous poet, lived in Poland. He wrote verses on Toothache and on Tobacco (descanting on its objectionable odour and showing how the smoker becomes its slave); also on Flies. To convey an idea of his art, we give the substance of the last-named work:— “The flies,” says the poet, “for some reason or other, went forth to combat against me. They also entered into a conspiracy with my penknife. Knowing of this, I implored the knife not to listen to the accursed insects, who had already caused me enough pain. The attack was begun in a novel fashion; the flies came, buzzing, in gay and merry mood, and settled on my hands and arms in a friendly manner, asking me to write them something in red ink. At the same time, the penknife, playing me a perfidious trick, cut my hand. I protested against this treatment. The penknife justified itself by saying it had acted thus because I had told a lie. I got a few moments’ rest, after this, from the flies, till, at dinner-time, I met with three of them, who announced that more were coming. The combat was renewed. During the night, the flies were relieved by their allies, the fleas.” Ghazar of Sebastia, an ecclesiastic, has fallen under the spell of some eyes “as deep as the sea.” He describes the torment under which he is pining away and his longing for his mistress’s arrival, like the longing of a patient for his physician. The face of his love (he says) is like glistening amber; her eyes are so bewitching, that “The sun and moon have unto thee come down, Lovingly on thy locks they hang, and gleam; And clustering stars thy beauteous forehead crown, Aflame and drunken with thy love they seem.” There is nothing known of Sarkavak Bertaktzi, but this poem from his pen is interesting:—