ARAB’S FAREWELL TO HIS FAVORITE STEED, THE

Song
John Blockley
The Honble. Mrs. Norton
John Blockley, London
From the cover: “The love shewn by the Arabs to their Horses is very great, they tend and feed them with scupulous care, and use fond and endearing expressions in speaking to them. It is related in most works on Natural History, that an Arab who had consented from poverty to sell his horse, addressed it in terms of passionate regret, and at length, unable to endure the parting, flung down the payment he had received, and mounting his regained favorite, rode swiftly away.” [No source for this quote is given.]

My Beautiful, my beautiful, that standest meekly by, With thy proud arch’d and glossy neck,
And dark and fiery eye; Fret not to roam the desert now
With all thy winged speed, I may not mount on thee again,
Thou’rt sold, my Arab steed.
Fret not with that impatient hoof, Snuff not the breezy wind,
The farther that thou fliest now, So far am I behind.
The stranger hath thy bridle rein, Thy master hath his gold,
Fleet limb’d and beautiful, fare thee well!
Thou’rt sold, my steed, thou’rt sold.

The morning sun shall dawn again, But never more with thee,
Shall I gallop thro’ the desert paths, Where we were wont to be.
Evening shall darken on the earth, And o’er the sandy plain,
Some other steed, with slower steps, Shall bear me home again.
When the dim distance cheats mine eye, And thro’ the gath’ring tears
Thy bright form for a moment like the false mirage appears,
And sitting down by that green well, I’ll pause and sadly think,
‘Twas here he bow’d his glossy neck, When last I saw him drink.

When last I saw him drink, Away! The fever’d dream is o’er.
I could not live a day and know That we should meet no more.
They tempted me, my beautiful! For hunger’s pow’r is strong,
They tempted me, my beautiful! But I have lov’d too long.
Who said that I had giv’n thee up! Who said that thou wast sold!
‘Tis false, ’tis false, my Arab steed, I fling them back their gold!
Thus, thus I leap upon thy back, And scour the distant plains,
Away, who overtakes us now Shall claim thee for his pains.

ARAB’S FAREWELL TO HIS FAVORITE STEED, THE