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iSaistfellanea. 
i 
THE ARABIAN.— A Sketch from Nature . 
« 
All breathing things delight in the green world ! 
Behold in yon small paddock a fair steed, 
Arabian shaped, sleek limbed, eyes that like fire beam— 
In action graceful as the swimming swan— 
The mould and model of his kind—as proud 
And glorious a thing as eyes can see. 
Fixed, statue-like, he stands, like Parthian stone, 
Chiselled by art to the similitude 
And attitude of life ! But greater hands 
Than human hands have made him what he is — 
The beautiful, the buoyant thing, whose speed 
Could tire the shadows coursing o’er this ground ; 
A creature that we love, while to our will 
We bend his nature down, and teach him fear. 
—But he must leave the field in which he fed, 
And joyful ran his own impulsive race. 
See where the groom, with sieve thin spread with corn, 
Presented oft, oft seen, as oft refused 
(For the shy creature knows that the decoy 
Covers the thralling rein, and more prefers 
Freedom uncurbed, and his own wanton play), 
Comes now to snatch him from his heaven of ease. 
He stands a moment only, as if caught; 
The coaxing groom believes his task is done, 
And wonders where his freakislmess is fled. 
Almost his hand has clutched the dangling mane— 
Almost the rein is slipped upon his head, 
When, ere an eye can turn, with rampant prance, 
Short, snuffling snort, and instantaneous spring, ■ • • 
As if in mockery of the powers of man, 
Away he flies, swift as an eagle shoots 
The shrinking air, and scours his prison bounds, 
Till the air thunders as his frantic feet 
Strike with strong clatter on the hollow* ground. 
—Breathless, but patient, still the dodging man 
Follows the dodging beast, sooths the coy thing, 
Calls him by name, wdiistles, and lastly, swears,— 
“ That first infirmity of noble grooms — 
Now reddens with fierce rage, and now, once more, 
Comes whispering wheedling words into his car. 
He knows and hears him, and seems fairly won ; 
Too sure he has him, and too slow when sure— 
He’s gone again, straight as an arrow flies, 
As hopeless to pursue. Down drop the sieve 
And gingling rein ; and now the savage whip 
With shrilly threatenings thrills along the air: 
He heeds it not, and still his race lie runs. 
Now, tired of play, or else instinctive fear, 
Or more instinctive love, tames the wild thing, 
And makes him docile. .He has had his will, 
And now resigns the mastery to man; 
For suddenly he turns in his mid flight, 
And stands a prisoner, willing to be bound. 
New Monthly Magazine. 
VOL. VII. 
H 
