THE BIRTH OF THE HORSE.

When Allah's breath created first
The noble Arab steed,—
The conqueror of all his race
In courage and in speed,—

To the South-wind He spake: From thee
A creature shall have birth,
To be the bearer of my arms
And my renown on earth.

Then to the perfect horse He spake:
Fortune to thee I bring;
Fortune, as long as rolls the earth,
Shall to thy forelock cling.

Without a pinion winged thou art,
And fleetest with thy load;
Bridled art thou without a rein,
And spurred without a goad.

Bayard Taylor.