Tho' mute the lips on which I hung, Their silence speaks more loud to me Than any voice from mortal tongue, "What Sayid was let Malec be."
[2] Abd Almalec was a native of Arabia Felix. The exact period when he flourished is unknown, but as this production is taken from the Hamasa it is most probable that he was anterior to Mohammedanism.
Dost thou wonder that I flew Charm'd to meet my Leila's view? Dost thou wonder that I hung Raptur'd on my Leila's tongue? If her ghost's funereal screech Thro' the earth my grave should reach, On that voice I lov'd so well My transported ghost would dwell:-- If in death I can descry Where my Leila's relics lie, Saher's dust will flee away, There to join his Leila's clay.
[3] The sentiment contained in this production determines its antiquity. It was the opinion of the Pagan Arabs that upon the death of any person a bird, by them called Manah, issued from his brain, which haunted the sepulchre of the deceased, uttering a lamentable scream.
How frail are riches and their joys? Morn builds the heap which eve destroys; Yet can they have one sure delight-- The thought that we've employed them right.
What bliss can wealth afford to me When life's last solemn hour I see, When Mavia's sympathizing sighs Will but augment my agonies?
Can hoarded gold dispel the gloom That death must shed around his tomb? Or cheer the ghost which hovers there, And fills with shrieks the desert air?
What boots it, Mavia, in the grave, Whether I lov'd to waste or save? The hand that millions now can grasp, In death no more than mine shall clasp.
Were I ambitious to behold Increasing stores of treasured gold, Each tribe that roves the desert knows I might be wealthy if I chose:--
But other joys can gold impart, Far other wishes warm my heart-- Ne'er may I strive to swell the heap, Till want and woe have ceas'd to weep.
With brow unalter'd I can see The hour of wealth or poverty: I've drunk from both the cups of fate, Nor this could sink, nor that elate.
With fortune blest, I ne'er was found To look with scorn on those around; Nor for the loss of paltry ore, Shall Hatem seem to Hatem poor.
[4] Hatem Tai was an Arabian chief, who lived a short time prior to the promulgation of Mohammedanism. He has been so much celebrated through the East for his generosity that even to this day the greatest encomium which can be given to a generous man is to say that he is as liberal as Hatem. Hatem was also a poet; but his talents were principally exerted in recommending his favorite virtue.