Was never bred in Araby.
And close at hand, the aatoosh shows
Its silken curtains, that enclose
The bright Messouda, the young wife
Of Aali, precious as his life.
Another — this his daughter bears,
The lovely Fatmeh, now of years
More womanly, and with a light
Of beauty lent to mortal sight
But rarely. To the childlike grace,
That ever marks the Eastern maid,
Is added, in that matchless face,
Of earnestness a tender shade.
Whence came that beam of heavenly thought
To one by book or sage untaught,
And in a false religion bred ?
Be not so narrow in thy creed !
The God, who Job and Abram loved.
Although their people knew Him not,
Who Moab's gentle daughter moved,