But tho' in dust thy relics lie,
Thy virtues, Mano, ne'er shall die;
Tho' 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.

_Hassan Alasady_.


TOMB OF SAYID[2]

Blest are the tenants of the tomb!
With envy I their lot survey!
For Sayid shares the solemn gloom,
And mingles with their mouldering clay.

Dear youth! I'm doom'd thy loss to mourn
When gathering ills around combine;
And whither now shall Malec turn,
Where look for any help but thine?

At this dread moment when the foe
My life with rage insatiate seeks,
In vain I strive to ward the blow,
My buckler falls, my sabre breaks.

Upon thy grassy tomb I knelt,
And sought from pain a short relief--