ARMENIA’S BITTER CRY.
By Hetta Lord Hayes Ward.
I.
World, world, hear our prayer
Oh where is Russia, where?
A fearful deed is done,
Its glare affronts the sun.
Smoke! Flame! Fire!
Rouse thee, great Russian Sire!
When Christian homes are ablaze,
Hast thou no voice to raise?
Thy neighbor to thee has cried,
Pass not on the other side.
Look on our dire despair!
Where art thou, Czar, oh, where?
II.
Land of the sun and sea,
Wake, Rome and Italy!
Our ancient Church in vain
Calls thee to break her chain.
Shame! Shame! Shame!
Where sleeps thy early fame?
To death our priests are led,
Their flocks lie slaughtered, dead.
Awake, good Pope of Rome!
Our saints through blood go home;
Hear thou their dying plea,
Where, where is Italy?
III.
Land of Fraternite,
Brave France, turn not away!
Shall blood thy lilies stain?
Wilt bear the curse of Cain?
Wake! Wake! Wake!
For God and glory’s sake!
On a ghastly funeral pyre,
Brave men are burned with fire;
God calls to France, the free,
“Thy brother, where is he?”
Lest God in wrath requite,
Awake, befriend the right!
IV.
Where is good Frederick’s son
When evil deeds are done?
Shall prisons reek and rot,
His mother’s blood speak not?
Haste! Haste! Haste!
Time runs too long to waste.
If halts the Kaiser dumb,
Let all the people come.
Your oath must sacred stand,
Treaties of Fatherland;
Victims of Turk and Kurd,
Rest on your plighted word.
V.
Your sisters’ shame and blood
Cry out to England’s God.
Slain on the church’s floor,
Their blood flowed out the door.
Speak! Speak! Speak!
The strong must help the weak.
Leave Turkish bonds unsold;
Betray not Christ for gold.
Let the Moslem dragon feel
Once more Saint George’s heel.
England, awake, awake!
World, hear, for Jesus’ sake!