Mine Arab sires their towers cross-crowned had raised
Like thine, on crag and peak, and dwelt therein,
Hundreds of years ere first in scorn they gazed
Far down on crescent flags of Saladin.
Seldom for us the unequal strife hath ceased:
Age after age that martyr-crown we bear,
Here in our old untamed, inviolate East,
The Church for three short centuries bore elsewhere.
Wife of our race must share the heroic mould:
A mother 'mid our mothers with calm eye