breeze ! Silks from India are less soft than her skin ; and her form, though noble, is timid as the fawn ! Let this my joy be proclaimed to all my people ! Let them take my blessing, and give me congratulation ! Their chief is alive, returns, and is victorious ! All my people, even little children, shall sing these our deeds ; all must share in the joy of their chief, As well those whose age prevents their sharing my glories, as those who have yet to learn the path of heroes! God has made us to overcome those who stood against us! They are fallen, and their towns are in ruins ! In the open day, by the light of the sun, the children of the prophet trod them under foot! and now we approach our homes ! Towards the rising sun, we followed them ; they fled! They were destroyed ! they bled! and they were bound ! On the fifth day of the week, blessed be the day ! the standards of the prophet floated in the wind ! The lightnings of my spears played around them! The neighings of my horses seemed like thunder to the unbelievers! They fell! The earth claimed them once more, and drank their blood! From the morning until black night we pursued them; and their blood was as food and refreshment to my strong- armed chiefs ! Their Women, their cattle, and their horses, were amongst our spoils ; and he, who was, at the rising of the sun, surrounded by thousands of glittering spears, he, the king, was, on the going down thereof, deprived pf all! He was left alone and deserted! David, my captain, my chosen captain, was covered with the blood of his enemies! His garments were of blood colour ! He set his foot on the necks of the Kaffirs, as he drew out his never-failing spear, deep as it was in their gory forms ! while with his sword he still satisfied his unappeased wrath. Forests of spears pierced our enemies! Cowards on that day were brave ! The hitherto boasting but inactive soldier this day proved himself a hero! Who shall sing the deeds of my brave people, and do them justice ? With death before their eyes, they embraced danger as- a maiden whom they wished to enjoy, smiling, and proud of their strength ; for glory to them was sweeter than new honey or virgin lips. The battle of spears was like a .wedding feast, so joyous were my people ! Surely their rage is like that of a furious lion in his wrath! which who shall restrain ? They are a destroying fire in the eye of their enemies! Stronger than rocks are my followers ! Spear them! spear them ! till the sun sees their bones; and let their bodies be food for the birds and hyaenas, while they resist the sword of the prophet! But oh ! my people, spare the fallen! and those who implore mercy in the name of the One and Omnipotent! These were my words. Wading through blood, we arrived at the palace of the sultan. What were all my defeats, when compared to this victory ! “ Lend your ears, oh my chiefs ! ye who were present; for they are your deeds I sing! and ye also who were away; for I sing of your brethren and your children. It was on the first of the month, when we once more came on those, who were enemies to us,.arid to our faith ! “ Tirab, chief in fight, raged alike with the strength of an elephant! and also his wisdom for two days! Four kingdoms towards the declining sun had been destroyed, and one to the south, five in number! Six months I had been from home, and on the seventh I made my return, after humbling my enemies, and binding them as slaves! As food is before the hyaena, so are their enemies before my people. They are devoured ! But the prophet’s children are saved by God, who watches over true believers ! As a thorn pierces whatever disturbs its retirement, Sb do my spear-hurling hosts dash their pointed javelins into the flesh of those who break our peace and our repose ! , When I cheer them on, miserable are they that oppose them ! But he that submits, and acknowledges the One and Omnipotent, and his Prophet, blessed be God and his angels, shall receive mercy! I govern by the will of the most High, and by God’s decree, and administer the law of God, whose servant I am; and whoever dies under such law, paradise is his.” No. XV. Translation o f an extempore Arab Song. !< O h ! she was beauty’s self, and shone in matchless symmetry! When shall I hear news of her ? how support her absence, and her loss ? My hopes are but as the fantastic dreams of night; yet with this hopelessness my love does but increase, even as a star shines the brightest in the blackest night. O ! Mabrooka! thy head sinks too with sorrow at losing him, whose thoughts are still of thee ; but as the desert bird* drops and smooths its wing, but to * Ostrich.
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