characteristic of Arabian poetry, which is attractive for its
cleverness, its brightness, the alternate smiles and tears which shine
through it, and make the present selections so refreshing and
interesting a revelation of the national heart and intellect.

I use the word refreshing, because some of the imagery of these lyrics
is new to me, and quite unparalleled in European literature. What can
be more novel, and at the same time more charming than the following
simile, with which a short elegy concludes:--

"But though in dust thy relics lie,
Thy virtues, Mano, ne'er shall die;
Though Nile's full stream be seen no more,
That spread his waves from shore to shore,
Still in the verdure of the plain
His vivifying smiles remain."

The praise of a humble lot has been sung from Háfiz to Horace, but
never illustrated by a prettier conceit than the Arabic poet has
recourse to in this stanza:--

"Not always wealth, not always force
A splendid destiny commands;
The lordly vulture gnaws the corse
That rots upon yon barren sands.

"Nor want nor weakness still conspires
To bind us to a sordid state;
The fly that with a touch expires,
Sips honey from the royal plate."