Armenian Legends and Poems [1916] at sacred-texts.com
(Born 1260)
Now we draw towards the land,
And I fear the sea-board yonder:--
Lest the rocks upon the strand
Break and tear our planks asunder.
I will pray God that He raise
From the shore a breeze to meet us,
To disperse this gloomy haze,
That a happy land may greet us.