Page:Armenian poems, rendered into English verse (IA armenianpoemsren00blaciala).pdf/23

None sought the boy's sad heart to read,
Nor in its depths to look.
They would have found it was a fire,
And not a printed book!

Nay, ashes now! a memory!
Grow stormy, little mere,
For a despairing man has gazed
Into thy waters clear!