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THE ARAB WARRIOR.

FROM THE ARABIC.

Go, ask of men that know my name,

And they the truth will speak, That I'm the terror of the strong,

The helper of the weak.

My spear has made the dragon brood

Succumb to galling bands,
And tossed before the jaws of War

The forage he demands.

I steer my horse through stormy fights,

As a seaman steers his craft; My joy, to splinter on my breast

The foeman's flying shaft.

I am the latest laid to rest,

The earliest in the fight, And while the others idly feast

I rub my harness bright.

And while the booty they divide

I heap the ranks of slain, And when they scorn my poverty,

I scorn their greed of gain.

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6 La illah il' Allah !the muezzin's call Comes from the minaret, slim and tall, That looks o'er the distant city's wall.

La illah il' Allah ! the Faithful heed, With God and the Prophet this hour to plead : Whose ear is open to hear their need.

The sun is sunken ; no vapor mars
The path of his going with dusky bars.
The silent Desert awaits the stars.

I bend the knee and I stretch the hand,
I strike my forehead upon the sand,
And I pray aloud, that He understand.

Not for my father, for he is dead ;
Not in my wandering brothers’ stead -
For myself alone I bow the head.

God is Great, and God is Just :
He knoweth the hearts of the children of dust -
He is the Helper; in Him I trust.

My sword is keen and my arm is strong
With the sense of unforgotten wrong,
And the hate that waits and watches long.

God, let me wait for year on year,
But let the hour at last appear,
When Vengeance makes my honor clear.

Once let me strike till he is slain ;
His blood will cleanse my sabre's stain,
And I shall stand erect again.

Till then, I wander to and fro,
Wide as the desert whirlwinds go,
And seek, by the sun and stars, my foe.

Better than Stamboul's courts of gold,
Whose harems the Georgian girls infold,
Whiter than snow, but not so cold;

Better than Baghdad's garden bowers,
Or fountains that play among Persian flowers ;
Better than all delights and powers,

The deed God's justice will abide-
The stern atonement, long denied,
That righteous Vengeance gives to Pride..

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