DISTURBED!
["The (Turkish) soldiers then came and promised the protection of the Imperial troops to all who should lay down arms, and seek refuge in the Turkish camp. This offer was accepted by an Armenian clergyman on behalf of 360 persons of all ages and both sexes. The Turkish colonel ordered them to be provided with supper along with the soldiers, and then at night had them escorted to a distance from camp, where they were despatched and thrown into a large pit, dead and dying together."—Report, from Moush, of Daily Telegraph's Special Correspondent, on the Armenian Atrocities.]
["The hyæna's aspect is repulsive. Malign, inexorable, and untameably savage, its eyes shine like lucifers in the dark night; its stealthy, dusky form surprises us. It fears the light of day, and strangles what is weak and straying from the path. It mocks its prey with a laugh."—The Book of Nature and of Man.]
Unchanged, unchangeable! A scourge
Attila-like from age to age;
What plea can Charity now urge
For such immitigable rage?
No rest from ravin, no surcease
Of carnage? Vain it seems to ply
Earth's butcher, foe of love, home, peace
With pleadings of humanity.
Since words avail not, any more
Than Sampson's withy-bands, to bind
This worse than Erymanthian boar,
This fell, fierce foe of humankind;
What use in wasting words? The hand
Of Hercules to cleanse and slay
The monster scourges of the land
Is needful in a newer day.
Malign, inexorable, untamed,
This hoar hyæna of the East
Our skill has scorned, our wisdom shamed.
Must the implacable, fierce beast
Have room and verge for ravage still,
Unmenaced by the hunter's spear;
Blast the beginnings of goodwill,
Fill the fresh-budding waste with fear?
'Tis time, 'tis time! Incarnate crime,
Embodied cruelty and lust,
Trampler in slaughter-sanguined slime,
Mocker of loyalty and trust;
Derider of the human bond,
Befouler of barbaric faith,
Are there fanatics now so fond
As to protest against thy scath?
Seeing thine old defenders turn,
Sickened at that dread Death-Pit's sight,
And with just indignation burn,
Sure the horizon bears a light,
A blade-like beam of menace clear,
Typing the brand of Nemesis.
E'en Power's panders well might fear
To palliate such a scene as this.
The treacherous pact, the stabber's snare,
The butcher-orgie, that grim grave,
From which fire would not purge the air,
That was not hidden by the wave;
The stealthy trick, the crawling lie,—
These stain the record. Can the Turk,
For all his age-learnt subtlety,
Blot out the count of such black work.
Justice will heed the faintest plea
Even from blood-stained lips, if truth
Linger upon them; but must flee
All maundering and maudlin ruth,
If this red record 'stablished stand.
The stealthy prowler loves the night,
But crouches at the threatening hand
It glimpses in the breaking light.
Disturbed! Those shining furtive eyes
Glance angrily askance—in fear!
The women's shrieks, the children's cries,
Which we in fancy still can hear,
Left that hyæna-heart unmoved;
But now a voice upon the air,—
The same stern voice which Cain reproved,—
Frightens the ghoul in his dark lair!