of fire and of wind.

Umimah my loved one was by me: without
love did these eyes see my fawn,
And if fire there were in her being, for me
its splendour had gone;
When the sun storms up on the tent, he makes
waste the fire of the grass--
It was thus with my loved one's beauty: the
splendour of song made it pass.

The desert, the march, and the onset--these
and these only avail,
Hands hard with the handling of spear-shafts,
brows white with the press of the mail!
And as for the kisses of women--these are
honey, the poet sings;
But the honey of kisses, beloved, it is lime
for the spirit's wings.


_ARAB SONGS (II)_

_The poet reproaches those who have affronted him_.

Ye know not why God hath joined the horse
fly unto the horse
Nor why the generous steed is yoked with
the poisonous fly:
Lest the steed should sink into ease and lose