But, in the calm of that midnight,

The Voice that seldom kept aloof From his blest pillow spoke the right, And uttered words of stern reproof :"How dost thou know that poor man's soul

Did not on thy regard depend?

:

The rich and proud thy moods controul;I meant thee for the mourner's friend."

Deep in the Prophet's contrite heart

The holy reprimand remained, And blind Abdallah for his part

Kindness and reverence then obtained:

Twice, after years of sacred strife,
Within Medeenah's walls he ruled,

The man through whom Mohammed's life
Into its perfect grace was schooled.

And, from the warning of that night,
No one, however humble, past
Without salute the Prophet's sight,
Or felt his hand not held the last :
And every one was free to hear

His high discourse, and in his breast
Unburden theirs without a fear

Of troubling his majestic rest.

Thus too, when Muslim Muslim meets,
Though new the face and strange the road,
His "Peace be on you" sweetly greets

The ear, and lightens many a load :
Proclaiming that in Allah's plan

True men of every rank and race
Form but one family of man,

One Paradise their resting-place.*

*Salutation in the East seems almost a religious ordinance, and good manners part of the duty of a good Muslim.

IX.

MOHAMMED AND THE ASSASSIN.

"LEAVE me, my followers, leave me ;

The best-loved voices grieve me

When falls the weary day :
My heart to God is yearning,
My soul to God returning :
Leave me alone to pray."

So had the Prophet spoken:
The silence was unbroken;
While on a tree close by
He hung his arms victorious,
And raised his forehead glorious
As glows the western sky.

Fast as the sun descended,
Further the Prophet wended
His course behind the hill;
Where, at his motives prying,
An Arab foe was lying,

Hid by a sand-heap still.

One of a hateful tribe,
Treating with scorn and gibe
God and the Prophet's name:

Creatures of evil lust,

Base as the desert dust,

Proud of their very shame!

With upraised sword behind him,
Burning to slay or bind him,
Stealthy the traitor trod;

He cried, "At last I brave thee!

Whom hast thou now to save thee?"

"God," said the Prophet, "God!"

Guardian of Allah's choice,

Gabriel had heard that voice

Had seen the felon's brand;
Swift from his hand he tore it,
Swift as an arrow bore it
Into the Prophet's hand.

O vain design, and senseless,
To find the man defenceless
Whom God loves like a son!

He cried, "Who now shall save thee?

Which of the friends God gave thee?"

"Yes," said the Prophet, "One—

Evil the deed now done-

Still thou hast found a friend :

Only believe and bow

To him who has saved thee now,
Whose mercy knows no end."

VOL. I.