There was a time when she, a happy girl, Had home and parents and a numerous kin; But on an Eastertide, amid a whirl Of pillage, murder, and the savage din Of plundering Kavasses, the Pacha saw Her budding beauty, and his will was law. Her vengeful sire fell 'neath a sabre's stroke; Her mother, broken-hearted, gave to God The life in which no joys could now evoke The wonted happiness. The harem of the Turk Enfolds Haripsime's fresh maidenhood, And there where danger and corruption lurk, Where Shitan's nameless and befouling brood Surround each Georgian and Armenian pearl, She weeps and weeps, shunning the shallow joys Of trinkets, robes, of music, or the whirl Of joyous dance, of singing girls and boys, And murmurs always in a sobbing prayer, "Shall never help be sent? Is this despair?" RAPHAEL PATKANIAN. * * * * * LONGING Tell me, brother, where is rest From the flame that racks my breast With its pain? Fires unceasing sear my heart; Ah, too long, too deep, the smart To heal again. When I'd pluck the roses sweet Sharpest thorns my fingers greet; Courage flies. Since my love has humbled me, Tyrant-like has troubled me, 'Spite my cries. Health and joy have taken flight, Prayer nor chant nor priestly rite Do I prize. Girl, my girl, my peerless one, Radiant as Armenia's sun, Beautiful Sanan! Earth has none as fair as thou, Nor can ages gone bestow One like my Sanan. Sixteen summers old is she, Grace of slender pines has she, Like the stars her eyes. Lips, thrice blessed whom they kiss, Brows as dark as hell's abyss, And with sighs, Her heart to win, her love alone, What mighty prince from his high throne Would not descend? So I crave nor crown nor gold, Longed-for One, I her would hold Till time shall end. RAPHAEL PATKANIAN. * * * * * DAVID OF SASSUN NATIONAL EPOS OF ARMENIA [_Translated by F.B. Collins, B.S._] * * * * * DAVID OF SASSUN Strong and mighty was the Caliph of Bagdad[1]; he gathered together a host and marched against our Holy John the Baptist[2]. Hard he oppressed our people, and led many into captivity. Among the captives was a beautiful maiden, and the caliph made her his wife. In time she bore two sons, Sanassar and Abamelik. The father of these children was a heathen, but their mother was a worshipper of the cross[3], for the caliph had taken her from our people. [1] From the sense and according to the time in which the action takes place, Nineveh must be understood here; and instead of an Arabian caliph, the Assyrian king Sennacherib. There is an anachronism here, as the reader will see, for a king living 800 years before Christ is called an Arabian caliph, though the caliphs first took up their residence in Bagdad in the year 755.