THE ARAB WARRIOR. FROM THE ARABIC. Go, ask of men that know my name, My spear has made the dragon brood Succumb to galling bands, And tossed before the jaws of War 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, And while the booty they divide 1 ARAB PRAYER. "La illah il' Allah!" the muezzin's call Comes from the minaret, slim and tall, "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 I bend the knee and I stretch the hand, Not for my father, for he is dead ; 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 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, Till then, I wander to and fro, And seek, by the sun and stars, my foe. Better than Stamboul's courts of gold, |