hat a plan was laid to meet her at this
house with a company of priests who were all ready to marry her forcibly
to a man whom she knew nothing about, as is often done in this country.
Miriam thus gave up father and mother, brothers and sisters, for the
sake of Christ and his gospel.

In the year 1855 Mr. Ford removed to Beirut, and Miriam accompanied him.
She made a public profession of her faith in Christ in 1856, and was
married in 1858 to Mr. Ibrahim Sarkees, foreman and principal proof
reader of the American Mission Press. Her father has since removed to
Beirut, and all of the family have become entirely reconciled to her
being a Protestant. Her brother Habibs is a frequent attendant on Divine
service, and regards himself as a Protestant.

Miriam is now deeply interested in Christian work, and the weekly
meetings of the Native Women's Missionary Society are held at her house.
The Protestant women agree either to attend this Sewing Society, or pay
a piastre a week in case of their absence.

I close this chapter with the mention of Werdeh, [Rose,] daughter of the
celebrated Arabic poet Nasif el Yazijy, who aided Dr. Eli Smith in the
translation of the Bible into Arabic. She is now a member of the
Evangelical Church in Beirut. She herself has written several poems of
rare merit; one an elegy upon the death of Dr. Smith; another expressing
grateful thanks to Dr. Van Dyck for attending her sick brother. Only
this can be introduced here, a poem lamenting the death of Sarah
Huntington Bistany, daughter of Raheel, who died in January, 1866.
Sarah's father and her own father, Sheikh Nasif, had been for years on
the most intimate terms, and the daughters were like sisters. The
account of Sarah's death will be found in another part of this volume.

Oh sad separation! Have you left among mortals,
An eye without tears, hot and burning with sorrow?
Have you left on this earth a heart without anguish,
Or a soul unharrowed with grief and emotion?
Thou hast plucked off a flower from our beautiful garden,
Which shall shine like the stars in the gardens celestial.
Wo is me! I have lost a fair branch of the willow
Broken ruthlessly off. And what heart is _not_ broken?
Thou hast gone, but from me thou wilt never be absent.
Thy person will live to my sight and my hearing.
Tears of blood will be shed by fair maids thy companions,
Thy grave will be watered by tears thickly falli