FOR CHILDREN, 217

Thy proud dark eye will grow less proud, thy
step become less fleet,

And vainly shalt thou arch thy neck, thy master’s
hand to meet.

Only in sleep shall I behold that dark eye, glancing
bright ;—

Only in sleep shall hear again that step so firm
and light ;

Aud when I raise my dreaming arm to check 0
cheer thy speed,

Then must I, starting, wake to feel,—thou'rt sold,
my Arab steed !

Ah! rudely, then, unseen by me, some cruel hand
may chide,

Till foam-wreaths lie, like crested waves, along
thy panting side:

And the rich blood that’s in thee swells, in thy
indignant pain,

Till careless eyes, which rest on thee, may count
each starting vein.

Will they ill-use thee P If I thought—. but no, it
cannot be~—

Thou art so swift, yet easy curbed ; so gentle, yet
so free:

And yet,.if haply, when thou'rt gone, my lonely
heart should yearn—

Can the hand which casts thee from it now com-
mand thee to return ?

Return! alas! my Arab steed! what shall thy

master do, °

When thou, who wast his all of joy, hast vanished
from his view ? u