hey lie.

_Meskin Aldaramy_.

[6] These lines are also from the Hamasa.

ON TEMPER[7]

Yes, Leila, I swore by the fire of thine eyes,
I ne'er could a sweetness unvaried endure;
The bubbles of spirit, that sparkling arise,
Forbid life to stagnate and render it pure.

But yet, my dear maid, tho' thy spirit's my pride,
I'd wish for some sweetness to temper the bowl;
If life be ne'er suffer'd to rest or subside,
It may not be flat, but I fear 'twill be foul.

_Nabegat Beni Jaid_.

[7] There have been several Arabian poets of the name of Nabegat. The
author of these verses was descended from the family of Jaid. As
he died in the fortieth year of the Hegira, aged one hundred and
twenty, he must have been fourscore at the promulgation of Islamism;
he, however, declared himself an early convert to the new faith.

THE SONG OF MAISUNA[8]

The russet suit of camel's hair,
With spirits light, and eye serene,
Is dearer to my bosom far
Than all the trappings of a queen.

The humble tent and murmuring breeze
That whistles thro' its fluttering wall,
My unaspiring fancy please
Better than towers and splendid halls.

Th' attendant colts that bounding fly
And frolic by the litter's side,
Are dearer in Maisuna's eye
Than gorgeous mules in all their pride.

The watch-dog's voice that bays whene'er
A stranger seeks his master's cot,
Sounds sweeter in Maisuna's ear
Than yonder trumpet's long-drawn note.

The rustic youth unspoilt by art,
Son of my kindred, poor but free,
Will ever to Maisuna's heart
Be dearer, pamper'd fool, than thee.

[8] Maisuma was a daughter of the tribe of Calab; a tribe, according
to Abulfeda, remarkable both for the purity of dialect spoken in
it, and for the number of poets it had produced. She was married,
whilst very young, to the Caliph Mowiah. But this exalted situation
by no means suited the disposition of Maisuna, and amidst all the
pomp and splendor of Damascus, she languished for the simple
pleasures of her native desert.

TO MY FATHER[9]

Must then my failings from the shaft
Of anger ne'er escape?
And dost thou storm because I've quaff'd
The water of the grape?

That I can thus from wine be driv'n
Thou surely ne'er canst think--
Another reason thou hast giv'n
Why I resolve to drink.

'Twas sweet the flowing