Black Barbary
THE SOLDIER AND HIS STEED .
The eastern gray is blending fast
With orange on the mountain height,
The misty clouds are hurrying past,
The stars are melting in the light:
I feel the air's delicious glow
Revive my heart and bathe my brow;
The morning's unbought joys for me, —
I'll saddle soon Black Barbary.
My beauteous mare, whose bounding speed
Has never fail'd my utmost need; —
Her tossing head and glancing eye
Own that she knows her master nigh.
With golden grain her crib I'll fill,
And water from the clearest rill;
And then the far blue hills shall see
A gallant race, fleet Barbary!
Her graceful limbs and glossy hide,
Without a speck to mar its pride,
Her silken tail of raven black,
Which streams behind our hurried track,
Prouder than ever Pacha bore
'Mid charging hosts his ranks before,
Her stamping foot, — how wild and free,
How dear thou art, proud Barbary!
Wert thou an Arab's desert steed,
To share his tent and serve his need,
His wife's delight, his kinsmen's joy,
The playmate of his prattling boy, —
Scarce might an empire's wealth obtain
One lock of all thy floating mane;
And art thou not as dear to me,
My gentle, playful Barbary!
If I had wealth, I'd gladly deck
With bells of gold thine arching neck;
But well I know thou carest less
For gauds than for one dear caress,
And friends like thee become not strange,
Though clouds may lower and fortunes change;
Thy faith is firm, thy love is free, —
Thine eye unchanged, — true Barbary!
Thy brilliant eyes are wild as when
We bore the battle's fiery brunt,
Thy spreading nostrils wide as then,
As high thy starr'd and noble front:
How would thy pricking ears rejoice
To hear the trumpet's cheering voice!
The winds of heaven are not more free
Than thy fierce charge, brave Barbary!
Thy hoof is strong, thy step is sure,
We'll go as on the wild-bird's wing, —
No double-riding cares endure,
The magic of thy bounding spring:
See, now she champs the bending bit, —
My foot is on the stirrup set,
One bound, — and off, — away go we,
I and my mare, good Barbary.
The eastern gray is blending fast
With orange on the mountain height,
The misty clouds are hurrying past,
The stars are melting in the light:
I feel the air's delicious glow
Revive my heart and bathe my brow;
The morning's unbought joys for me, —
I'll saddle soon Black Barbary.
My beauteous mare, whose bounding speed
Has never fail'd my utmost need; —
Her tossing head and glancing eye
Own that she knows her master nigh.
With golden grain her crib I'll fill,
And water from the clearest rill;
And then the far blue hills shall see
A gallant race, fleet Barbary!
Her graceful limbs and glossy hide,
Without a speck to mar its pride,
Her silken tail of raven black,
Which streams behind our hurried track,
Prouder than ever Pacha bore
'Mid charging hosts his ranks before,
Her stamping foot, — how wild and free,
How dear thou art, proud Barbary!
Wert thou an Arab's desert steed,
To share his tent and serve his need,
His wife's delight, his kinsmen's joy,
The playmate of his prattling boy, —
Scarce might an empire's wealth obtain
One lock of all thy floating mane;
And art thou not as dear to me,
My gentle, playful Barbary!
If I had wealth, I'd gladly deck
With bells of gold thine arching neck;
But well I know thou carest less
For gauds than for one dear caress,
And friends like thee become not strange,
Though clouds may lower and fortunes change;
Thy faith is firm, thy love is free, —
Thine eye unchanged, — true Barbary!
Thy brilliant eyes are wild as when
We bore the battle's fiery brunt,
Thy spreading nostrils wide as then,
As high thy starr'd and noble front:
How would thy pricking ears rejoice
To hear the trumpet's cheering voice!
The winds of heaven are not more free
Than thy fierce charge, brave Barbary!
Thy hoof is strong, thy step is sure,
We'll go as on the wild-bird's wing, —
No double-riding cares endure,
The magic of thy bounding spring:
See, now she champs the bending bit, —
My foot is on the stirrup set,
One bound, — and off, — away go we,
I and my mare, good Barbary.
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