"I am old, I am very old : "What I say to you is the truth; "Him the Almighty made, "He was born at the break of day, "Gifted with Allah's grace, "When first on earth he trod, "And he shall be king of men, For Allah hath heard his prayer, And the Archangel in the air, Gabriel, hath said, Amen!' THE SIEGE OF KAZAN. I said in my heart, with horse and man, I will swim across this shallow flood. Under the feet of Argamack, Like new moons were the shoes he bare, Silken trappings hung on his back, My warriors, thought I, are following me; But when I looked behind, alas ! Not one of all the band could I see, All had sunk in the black morass ! Where are our shallow fords? and where The power of Kazan with its fourfold gates? From the prison windows our maidens fair Talk of us still through the iron grates. We cannot hear them; for horse and man Lie buried deep in the dark abyss ! Ah! the black day hath come down on Kazan! Ah! was ever a grief like this? THE BOY AND THE BROOK. Armenian Popular Song, from the Prose Version of Alishan. DOWN from yon distant mountain height The brooklet flows through the village street; A boy comes forth to wash his hands, Washing, yes washing, there he stands, In the water cool and sweet. Brook, from what mountain dost thou come, O my brooklet cool and sweet! I come from yon mountain high and cold, Where lieth the new snow on the old, And melts in the summer heat. Brook, to what river dost thou go? O my brooklet cool and sweet! Tartar Song, from the Prose Version of I go to the river there below Chodzko. BLACK are the moors before Kazan, Where in bunches the violets grow, And sun and shadow meet. And their stagnant waters smell of Brook, to what garden dost thou go? blood : O my brooklet cool and sweet! go to the garden in the vale Where all night long the nightingale Her love-song doth repeat. Brook, to what fountain dost thou go? CONSOLATION. To M. Duperrier, Gentleman of Aix in Provence, on the Death of his Daughter. FROM MALHERBE. The maid that loves thee comes to WILL then, Duperrier, thy sorrow be drink, And whenever she looks therein, I rise to meet her, and kiss her chin, And my joy is then complete. TO THE STORK. Armenian Popular Song, from the Prose Version of Alishan. WELCOME, O Stork! that dost wing Thy flight from the far-away! eternal? And shall the sad discourse Whispered within thy heart, by tenderness paternal, Only augment its force? Thy daughter's mournful fate, into the tomb descending By death's frequented ways, Has it become to thee a labyrinth never ending, Where thy lost reason strays? Thou hast brought us the signs of I know the charms that made her youth Spring, Thou hast made our sad hearts gay. Descend, O Stork ! descend Upon our roof to rest; In our ash-tree, O my friend, My darling, make thy nest. To thee, O Stork, I complain, O Stork, to thee I impart The thousand sorrows, the pain And aching of my heart. When thou away didst go, Away from this tree of ours, The withering winds did blow, And dried up all the flowers. Dark grew the brilliant sky, Cloudy and dark and drear; They were breaking the snow on high, And winter was drawing near. From Varaca's rocky wall, From the rock of Varaca unrolled, The snow came and covered all, And the green meadow was cold. O Stork, our garden with snow Were withered by snow and frost. And with the bitterness of tears Away shalt thou escape with me; "Let no one in thy dwelling cower, In sombre vestments draped and veiled; But let them welcome thy last hour, As thy first moments once they hailed. "Without a cloud be there each brow; There let the grave no shadow cast; When one is pure as thou art now, The fairest day is still the last." |