Lament of Maisun

I give thee all the treacherous brightness Of glittering robes which grace the fair,

Then give me back my young heart's lightness And simple vest of Camel's hair.

The tent on which free winds are beating Is dearer to the Desert's child

Than Palaces and kingly greeting

bear me to my desert wild !

More dear than swift mule softly treading, While gentlest hands his speed control,

Are camels rough their lone way threading Where caravans through deserts roll.

On couch of silken ease reclining

1 watch the kitten's sportive play,

But feel the while my young heart pining

For desert guests and watch-dog's bay. The frugal desert's banquet slender,

The simple crust which tents afford, han the courtly splendour

And sweets which grace a monarch's board. And dearer far the voices pealing

From winds which sweep the desert round Than Pomp and Power their pride revealing

In noisy timbrel's measur'd sound. Then bear me far from kingly dwelling,

From Luxury's cold and pamper'd child, To seek a heart with freedom swelling,

A kindred heart in deserts wild.