I Came To Realize Clearly That The

Parting Day Dies Like The Dolphin, Whom Each Pang Imbues With A New Colour As It Gasps Away, The Last Still Loveliest, Till-'t Is Gone, And All Is Gray.

It Would Be Difficult, Perhaps, To Find The Annals Of A Nation Less Stained With Crimes Than Those Of The Armenians, Whose Virtues Have Been Those Of Peace, And Their Vices Those Of Compulsion. But Whatever May Have Been Their Destiny And It Has Been Bitter Whatever It May Be In Future, Their Country Must Ever Be One Of The Most Interesting On The Globe.

Dead Scandals Form Good Subjects For Dissection.

But Stories Somehow Lengthen When Begun.

What Exile From Himself Can Flee? To Zones, Though More And More Remote, Still, Still Pursues, Where'er I Be, The Blight Of Life--the Demon Thought.