AN ARAB WELCOME.

Because thou com'st, a tired guest,

Unto my tent, I bid thee rest.

This cruse of oil, this skin of wine,

These tamarinds and dates, are thine:

And while thou eatest, Hassan, there,

Shall bathe the heated nostrils of thy mare.

II.

Allah il Allah! Even so

An Arab chieftain treats a foe:

Holds him as one without a fault,

Who breaks his bread and tastes his salt;

And, in fair battle, strikes him dead

With the same pleasure that he gives him bread!