When, lo! to bring my horrid fate at once unto the brunt, Two Arabs seized me from behind, two others in the front, And ere a muscle could be strung to try the strife forlorn I found myself, Mazeppa-like, upon the Desert-Born!

Terrific was the neigh she gave, the moment that my weight Was felt upon her back, as if exulting in her freight; Whilst dolefully I heard a voice that set each nerve ajar,"Off with the bridle — quick! — and leave his guidance to his star!"

"Allah! il Allah!" rose the shout, and starting with a bound, The dreadful Creature cleared at once a dozen yards of

ground;

And grasping at her mane with both my cold convulsive hands,

Away we flew away! away! across the shifting sands! My eyes were closed in utter dread of such a fearful race, But yet by certain signs I knew we went no earthly pace, For turn whichever way we might, the wind with equal force Rushed like a torrid hurricane still adverse to our course One moment close at hand I heard the roaring Syrian Sea, The next it only murmured like the humming of a bee! And when I dared at last to glance across the wild immense, O, ne'er shall I forget the whirl that met the dizzy sense! What seemed a little sprig of fern, ere lips could reckon

twain,

A palm of forty cubits high, we passed it on the plain!

What tongue could tell, what pencil paint,

describe the ride?

Now off- now on

what pen

now up

now down,- and flung

from side to side!

I tried to speak, but had no voice, to soothe her with its tone; My scanty breath was jolted out with many a sudden groan,

My joints were racked my back was strained, so

had clung

firmly I

My nostrils gushed, and thrice my teeth had bitten through

my tongue

When, lo!-farewell all hope of life!--she turned and faced the rocks,

None but a flying horse could clear those monstrous granite blocks!

So thought I, but I little knew the desert pride and fire, Derived from a most deer-like dam, and lion-hearted sire; Little I guessed the energy of muscle, blood and bone; Bound after bound, with eager springs, she cleared each massive stone ;

Nine mortal leaps were passed before a huge gray rock at length

Stood planted there as if to dare her utmost pitch of strength; My time was come! that granite heap my monument of

death!

She paused, she snorted loud and long, and drew a fuller

breath;

Nine strides, and then a louder beat that warned me of her

spring,

I felt her rising in the air like eagle on the wing

But, O! the crash!-the hideous shock!-the million sparks around!

Her hindmost hoofs had struck the crest of that prodigious

mound!

Wild shrieked the headlong Desert-Born - or else 't was demons' mirth,

One second more, and Man and Mare rolled breathless on the earth!

How long it was I cannot tell ere I revived to sense
And then but to endure the pangs of agony intense :

For over me lay powerless, and still as any stone,
The Corse that erst had so much fire, strength, spirit of its own
My heart was still- my pulses stopped-midway 'twixt life

and death,

With pain unspeakable I fetched the fragment of a breath,
Not vital air enough to frame one short and feeble sigh,
Yet even that I loathed because it would not let me die.
O! slowly, slowly, slowly on, from starry night till morn,
Time flapped along, with leaden wings, across that waste

forlorn,

I cursed the hour that brought me first within this world of strife

A sore and heavy sin it is to scorn the gift of life—
But who hath felt a horse's weight oppress his laboring

breast?

Why, any who has had. like me, the NIGHT MARE on his

chest.

LOVE LANE.

IF I should love a maiden more,
And woo her every hope to crown,
I'd love her all the country o'er,
But not declare it out of town.

One even, by a mossy bank,
That held a hornet's nest within,
To Ellen on my knees I sank,-

How snakes will twine around the shin!

A bashful fear my soul unnerved,
And gave my heart a backward tug;
Nor was I cheered when she observed.
Whilst I was silent, "What a slug!"
At length my offer I preferred,
And Hope a kind reply forebode -

Alas! the only sound I heard
Was, "What a horrid ugly toad!"
I vowed to give her all my heart,
To love her till my life took leave,
And painted all a lover's smart-
Except a wasp gone up his sleeve!

But when I ventured to abide
Her father's and her mother's grants-
Sudden she started up and cried,
"O dear! I am all over ants!
Nay, when beginning to beseech
The cause that led to my rebuff,
The answer was as strange a speech
A "Daddy-Longlegs, sure enough! "
I spoke of fortune - house, and lards,
And still renewed the warm attack,-
'Tis vain to offer ladies hands

That have a spider on the back!

'Tis vain to talk of hopes and fears,
And hope the least reply to win,
From any maid that stops her ears
In dread of earwigs creeping in!

"T is vain to call the dearest names
Whilst stoats and weasels startle by
As vain to talk of mutual flames
To one with glowworms in her eye!
What checked me in my fond address,
And knocked each pretty image down?
What stopped my Ellen's faltering yes?
A caterpillar on her gown!

To list to Philomel is sweet

To see the moon rise silver-pale,

But not to kneel at lady's feet
And crush a rival in a snail!

Sweet is the eventide, and kind
Its zephyr, balmy as the south;
But sweeter still to speak your mind
Without a chafer in your mouth!

At last, emboldened by my bliss,
Still fickle Fortune played me foul,
For when I strove to snatch a kiss
She screamed by proxy, through an owl!

Then, lovers, doomed to life or death,
Shun moonlight, twilight, lanes and bats,
Lest you should have in self-same breath
To bless
your fate and curse the gnats!

DOMESTIC POEMS.

"It's hame, hame, hame."- A. CUNNINGHAM.
"There's no place like home."- CLARI.

I.

HYMENEAL RETROSPECTIONS.

O KATE! my dear partner, through joy and through strife! When I look back at Hymen's dear day,

Not a lovelier bride ever changed to a wife,

Though you 're now so old, wizened, and gray!

Those eyes, then, were stars, shining rulers of fate!

But as liquid as stars in a pool;

Though now they're so dim, they appear, my dear Kate,
Just like gooseberries boiled for a fool!

That brow was like marble, so smooth and so fair;
Though it's wrinkled so crookedly now,