ome notes to weary bands
Of travelers in some shady haunt,
Among Arabian sands:
A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard
In spring-time from the cuckoo-bird,
Breaking the silence of the seas
Among the farthest Hebrides.

Will no one tell me what she sings?
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
For old, unhappy, far-off things,
And battles long ago!
Or is it some more humble lay,
Familiar matter of to-day?
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
That has been, and may be again?

Whate'er the theme, the maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending:
I saw her singing at her work,
And o'er the sickle bending;--
I listen'd, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.

359

Lady Norton (1808-1877) does not belong among
the great poets, but she wrote several poems
that were immense favorites with a generation
now passing away. Among them are "Bingen on the
Rhine," "The King of Denmark's Ride" and the
one given below. It will no doubt show that her
work still has power to stir readers of the
present day, although we are likely to think of
her poems as being too emotional or
sentimental. She wrote the words of the very
popular song "Juanita."

THE ARAB TO HIS FAVORITE STEED

CAROLINE E. NORTON

My beautiful! my beautiful! that standest meekly by,
With thy proudly arched and glossy neck, and dark and fiery eye,
Fret not to roam the desert now, with all thy winged speed;
I may not mount on thee again,--thou'rt sold, my Arab steed!
Fret not with that impatient hoof,--snuff not the breezy wind,--
The farther that thou fliest now, so far am I behind;
The stranger hath thy bridle-rein,--thy master hath his gold,--
Fleet-limbed and beautiful, farewell; thou'rt sold, my steed, thou'rt
sold.

Farewell! those free untired limbs full many a mile must roam,
To reach the chill and wintry sky which clouds the stranger's home;
Some other hand, less fond, must now thy corn and bed prepare,
Thy silky mane, I braided once, must be another's care!
The morning sun shall dawn again, but never more with thee
Shall I gallop through the desert