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КАВКАЗІ Іере.К.'ІіШВІРА РІЧТИК CAUCASUSТО Y A K IV UK ВЛ LM ENOk that ту head were waters, andmine eyes a fountain of tears, that Imiffh weep day and niyht for theslain. . .Jeremiah ix. 1.Mountains beyond mountains, wags in stormsloudscloaked.Wild heights sown with sorrow, soil that blood hassoaked.Srom the dawn of time, PrometheusHangs, the eagle’s victim;All God’s days, it pecks his ribs,Tears the heart within him.Tears, but cannot drink awayThe blood th at throbs with life,Still it lives and lives again,And still oncc more he smiles.For our soul shall never perish,Freedom knows no dying,And the Glutton cannot harvestFields where seas are lying;Cannot bind the living spirit,Nor the living word,Cannot smirch the sacred gloryOf almighty God.Not for us to stand against Thee,Not for us to judge Thy deed:For us there is but weeping, weeping,For us our daily bread to kneadWell-mixed with blood and sweat and tears;The hangman tortures, mocks and jeers,Our drunken thruth sleeps o n — as dead!42