Moses of Khorene tells the same story, adding that the Armenian king assigned an abode to Sharezer in the south of Armenia and to Adramelech in the south-east. The epic, referred to above, relates the doings of the two brothers and their descendants in Armenia, among the rest the founding by them of the city of Sassoon. The poem is divided into four parts. It is still transmitted orally, word for word, in Armenia; in many places in poetical form. During the last forty years, several versions of it have been taken down in writing and published, and these have received much attention from scholars. We cannot do more than mention this most interesting production; the space at our disposal forbids our giving even an outline of its contents. So far we have derived our information from the prose versions of passages in the epics found in Moses of Khorene either as quotations or as paraphrased in his own words. But that historian has also given a few extracts from the poems in their original form, being the first historian to do so. To these extracts we now turn. Although they are very few, they convey some idea of ancient Armenian poetry. The historian says he has himself heard these poems sung to the accompaniment of various musical instruments, of which he gives long and minute descriptions. According to him, these poems were sung chiefly in the province of Goghtan (the present Agulis, in Russian Armenia). This place abounded in gardens and vineyards, and produced a variety of good wines. The people were gay and fond of merry-making. Their love of the old pagan religion and manners still continued long after their conversion to Christianity. In this respect they resembled the Saxons of Germany, and, even in the early part of the fifth century, they observed pagan rites, sometimes openly, sometimes secretly. One of the old Armenian songs, describing the birth of the Armenian king Vahagn, is given in this volume, page 10. This is supposed to be a myth describing the rise of the sun over the sea. At sunrise the sky gradually becomes light; between the light and the darkness there is a kind of struggle; all nature is waiting in expectancy of a life-giving power, of the rising of the sun. It seems to be this expectancy of nature and man that the poet likens to the travail of heaven, earth, and sea. The “crimson reed” is perhaps the long red gleam sent forth from the East over the sea at dawn.