And, as the gale hangs on the grove,
Upon my breast she hung.

My willing arms embraced the maid,
My heart with raptures beat;
While she but wept the more and said,
"Would we had never met!"

_Abou Mohammed_.

[15] This was sung before the Caliph Wathek, by Abou Mohammed, a
musician of Bagdad, as a specimen of his musical talents; and such
were its effects upon the Caliph, that he immediately testified his
approbation of the performance by throwing his own robe over the
shoulders of Abou Mohammed, and ordering him a present of an hundred
thousand dirhems.


TO MY MISTRESS[16]

Ungenerous and mistaken maid,
To scorn me thus because I'm poor!
Canst thou a liberal hand upbraid
For dealing round some worthless ore?

To spare's the wish of little souls,
The great but gather to bestow;
Yon current down the mountain rolls,
And stagnates in the swamp below.