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the armenian horrors.
The Armenian Horrors.
QUESTION.
Shall the sword rust in its scabbard,
And the cursed assassin reign,
While the sod of the purple east grows red
With an ever deepening stain?
The life-blood of the martyred hosts,
By fiends incarnate slain.
And the cursed assassin reign,
While the sod of the purple east grows red
With an ever deepening stain?
The life-blood of the martyred hosts,
By fiends incarnate slain.
Shall our noble ships be idle,
While the loud indignant cry
For vengeance rings throughout the land,
From outraged humanity,—
The voice of Christian England,—
And still the martyrs die?
While the loud indignant cry
For vengeance rings throughout the land,
From outraged humanity,—
The voice of Christian England,—
And still the martyrs die?
Has the arm of the Lord been shortened,
And the Almighty ear
Grown deaf, that he takes no notice?
For God does not seem to hear
The cry of His tortured children—
"How long shall we suffer here?"
And the Almighty ear
Grown deaf, that he takes no notice?
For God does not seem to hear
The cry of His tortured children—
"How long shall we suffer here?"
Has the great heart of Old England
Grown cowardly, or cold?
And have we, a Christian nation,
Grown selfish, or less bold,
That we do not fling the gauntlet down
As we would in days of old?
Grown cowardly, or cold?
And have we, a Christian nation,
Grown selfish, or less bold,
That we do not fling the gauntlet down
As we would in days of old?
