They went on their way at dawn-they started before sunrise; straight did they make for the vale of ar-Rass, as hand for mouth.

Dainty and playful their mood to one who should try its worth,

and faces fair to an eye skilled to trace out loveliness. And the tassels of scarlet wool, in the spots where they gat them down

glowed red, like to 'ishrik seeds, fresh-fallen, unbroken, bright. And then they reached the wells where the deep-blue water lies, they cast down their staves, and set them to pitch the tents for rest.

On their right hand rose al-Kanân, and the rugged skirts thereof
(and in al-Kanân how many are foes and friends of mine!)
At eve they left as-Sûbân; then they crossed the ridge again,

borne on the fair-fashioned litters, all new and builded broad.

[Certain cantos, to the sixth one, reproach the author of the treachery and quarrel that led to the war and migration. Then follows a series of maxims as to human life and conduct.]

VI

Aweary am I of life's toil and travail: he who like me

has seen pass of years fourscore, well may he be sick of life!

I know what To-day unfolds, what before it was Yesterday;
but blind do I stand before the knowledge To-morrow brings.

I have seen the Dooms trample men as a blind beast at random treads:

whom they smote, he died; whom they missed, he lived on to strengthless eld.

Who gathers not friends by help, in many cases of need

is torn by the blind beast's teeth, or trodden beneath its foot. And he who his honor shields by the doing of a kindly deed grows richer; who shuts not the mouth of reviling, it lights on him.

And he who is lord of wealth and niggardly with his hoard,

alone is he left by his kin; naught have they for him but blame. Who keeps faith, no blame he earns, and that man whose heart is led

to goodness unmixed with guile gains freedom and peace of soul. Who trembles before the Dooms, yea, him shall they surely seize, albeit he set a ladder to climb the sky.

Who spends on unworthy men his kindness with lavish hand;

no praise doth he earn, but blame, and repentence the seed thereof.

Who will not yield to the spears, when their feet turn to him in

peace,

shall yield to the points thereof, and the long flashing blades of

steel.

Who holds not his foe away from his cistern with sword and spear, it is broken and spoiled; who uses not roughness, him shall men

wrong.

Who seeks far away from kin for housing, takes foe for friend;

who honors himself not well, no honor gains he from men. Who makes of his soul a beast of burden to bear men's loads,

nor shields it one day from shame, yea, sorrow shall be his lot. Whatso be the shaping of mind that a man is born withal, though he think it lies hid from men, it shall surely one day be known.

How many a man seemed goodly to thee while he held his peace, whereof thou didst learn the more or less when he turned to

speech.

The tongue is a man's one-half, the other, the heart within;

besides these two naught is left but a semblance of flesh and blood.

If a man be old and a fool, his folly is past all cure;

but a young man may yet grow wise and cast off his foolish

ness.

VII

We asked, and ye gave; we asked again, and ye gave again: but the end of much asking must be that no giving shall follow it.

THE

TARAFAH IBN AL 'ABD

A rebuke to a mischief-maker: Translation of C. J. Lyall

HE craft of thy busy tongue has sundered from home and kin
the cousins of both thy houses, 'Amr, 'Auf, and Mâlik's son.
For thou to thy dearest art a wind of the bitter north,

that sweeps from the Syrian hills, and wrinkles our cheeks and

brows.

But balmy art thou and mild to strangers, a gracious breeze

that brings from the gulf shore showers and fills with its rain our streams.

who holds mean his kith and kin, the meanest of men is he!

And surely a foolish tongue, when rules not its idle prate

discretion, but shows men where thou dwellest with none to guard.

LABÎD

A lament for the afflictions of his tribe, the 'Amir. From the (Diwan": Translation of C. J. Lyall

EA, the righteous shall keep the way of the righteous,

YEA,

and to God turn the steps of all that abideth;

And to God ye return, too; with Him, only,

rest the issues of things—and all that they gather. All that is in the Book of Knowledge is reckoned,

and before Him revealed lies all that is hidden:

Both the day when His gifts of goodness on those whom
He exalts are as palms full freighted with sweetness,
(Young, burdened with fruit, their heads bowed with clusters,
swelled to bursting, the tallest e'en as the lesser,)

And the day when avails the sin-spotted only

prayer for pardon and grace to lead him to mercy, And the good deed he wrought to witness before him, and the pity of Him who is Compassion:

Yea, a place in his shade, the best to abide in,

and a heart still and steadfast, right weening, honest.
Is there aught good in life? Yea, I have seen it,
even I, if the seeing bring aught of profit.
Long has Life been to me; and this is its burthen:
lone against time abide Ti'âr and Yaramram,
And Kulâf and Badi the mighty, and Dalfa',

yea, and Timâr, that towers aloft over Kubbah;*

And the Stars, marching all night in procession,

drooping westwards, as each hies forth to his setting: Sure and steadfast their course: the underworld draws them gently downwards, as maidens encircling the Pillar; And we know not, whenas their lustre is vanished, whether long be the ropes that bind them, or little. Lone is 'Amir, and naught is left of her goodness,

in the meadows of al-A'râf, but her dwellings Ruined shadows of tents and penfolds and shelters,

bough from bough rent, and spoiled by wind and by weather. Gone is 'Amir, her ancients gone, all the wisest:

none remain but a folk whose war-mares are fillies,

Yet they slay them in every breach in our rampart

yea, and they that bestride them, true-hearted helpers, They contemn not their kin when change comes upon them, Nor do we scorn the ties of blood and of succor.

-Now on 'Amir be peace, and praises, and blessing,
wherever be on earth her way- or her halting!

*The five names foregoing are those of mountains.

A FAIR LADY

From the Mu'allakât of Antara': Translation of E. H. Palmer

WAS then her beauties first enslaved my heart

TWA

Those glittering pearls and ruby lips, whose kiss
Was sweeter far than honey to the taste.

As when the merchant opes a precious box
Of perfume, such an odor from her breath
Comes toward me, harbinger of her approach;
Or like an untouched meadow, where the rain
Hath fallen freshly on the fragrant herbs
That carpet all its pure untrodden soil:
A meadow where the fragrant rain-drops fall
Like coins of silver in the quiet pools,
And irrigate it with perpetual streams;
A meadow where the sportive insects hum,
Like listless topers singing o'er their cups,
And ply their forelegs, like a man who tries
With maimèd hand to use the flint and steel.

THE DEATH OF 'ABDALLAH

AND WHAT MANNER OF MAN HE WAS

From the original poem of Duraid, son of as-Simmah, of Jusharn: Translation

I

of C. J. Lyall

WARNED them both, 'Ârid, and the men who went 'Ârid's waythe house of the Black Mother: yea, ye are all my witnesses, I said to them: "Think -even now, two thousand are on your

track,

all laden with sword and spear, their captains in Persian mail!» But when they would hearken not, I followed their road, though I knew well they were fools, and that I walked not in Wisdom's way.

For am not I but one of the Ghazîyah? and if they err

I err with my house; and if the Ghazîyah go right, so I.

I read them my rede, one day, at Mun'araj al-Liwa:

the morrow, at noon, they saw my counsel as I had seen.

A shout rose, and voices cried, "The horsemen have slain a knight!" I said, "Is it 'Abdallâh, the man whom you say is slain?»

I sprang to his side: the spears had riddled his body through

as a weaver on outstretched web deftly plies the sharp-toothed comb.

I stood as a camel stands with fear in her heart, and seeks

the stuffed skin with eager mouth, and thinks-is her youngling slain ?

I plied spear above him till the riders had left their prey, and over myself black blood flowed in a dusky tide.

I fought as a man who gives his life for his brother's life,

who knows that his time is short, that Death's doom above him hangs.

But know ye, if 'Abdallâh be dead, and his place a void,

no weakling unsure of hand, and no holder-back was he! Alert, keen, his loins well girt, his leg to the middle bare, unblemished and clean of limb, a climber to all things high; No wailer before ill-luck; one mindful in all he did

to think how his work to-day would live in to-morrow's tale, Content to bear hunger's pain though meat lay beneath his handto labor in ragged shirt that those whom he served might rest. If Dearth laid her hand on him, and Famine devoured his store, he gave but the gladlier what little to him they spared. He dealt as a youth with Youth, until, when his head grew hoar, and age gathered o'er his brow, to lightness he said, "Begone!" Yea, somewhat it soothes my soul that never I said to him

"thou liest," nor grudged him aught of mine that he sought of me!

ASH-SHANFARÀ OF AZD

A picture of womanhood, from the 'Mufaddaliyât': Translation of C. J. Lyall

Α'

LAS, Umm 'Amr set her face to depart and went:

gone is she, and when she sped, she left with us no farewell.

Her purpose was quickly shaped no warning gave she to friends, though there she had dwelt, hard-by, her camels all day with ours. Yea, thus in our eyes she dwelt, from morning to noon and eveshe brought to an end her tale, and fleeted and left us lone. So gone is Umaimah, gone! and leaves here a heart in pain: my life was to yearn for her; and now its delight is fled. She won me, whenas, shamefaced-no maid to let fall her veil,

no wanton to glance behind-she walked forth with steady tread; Her eyes seek the ground, as though they looked for a thing lost there;

she turns not to left or right-her answer is brief and low.

She rises before day dawns to carry her supper forth

to wives who have need- dear alms, when such gifts are few enow!