University of Virginia Library

THE LAMENT OF FEZZAN FOR HER CHIEF

Denham and Clapperton, when in Africa, set out from Moorzuk under the protection of Boo Kaloom, a Fezzan chief of great distinction, who had been persuaded to join the Sultan's troops in an incursion into the Fellatah country. Unsupported by his allies, who ran away at the first difficulty, the Arab sword and gun proving to be no match for the spears and poisoned arrows of the Fellatahs, Boo Kaloom was killed with a great number of his Arabs. Denham had a narrow escape. On the return of the survivors to Fezzan, the women lamented their chief with songs of praise and mourning for many days.

Trust not the sword nor faithless gun,
But let the boldest shrink with fear
When Boo Kaloom, the brave and good,
Falls by the unbeliever's spear.
Like the broad moon among the stars,
The chief of Fezzan matchless shone;
Where now shall Fezzan look for aid,
That rested on his aid alone?
Low lies the shepherd of his flock—
Low lies the pride of Arab lands—
Let men with sorrow hang their heads,
Let women wring their helpless hands.
Mourn him with praises and with song,
Yet who can hope his praise to tell,
Whose heart was like the desert large,
And bounteous as the desert well,
Or as the camel's milky stores
From Fezzan's palmy plains, that give
New vigor to the sinking troop,
And bid the fainting traveler live?
As droop the flowers when rains are passed,
Droops Moorzuk, mourning for the slain,
Pierced by the heathen's poisoned shaft,
Stripped on the heathen's distant plain.
Parched now by burning sands and sun,
Swept now by chilling winds of night,
The arm that gave his people strength,
The eye that gave his people light.
Oh trust not sword nor faithless gun,
But let the boldest shrink with fear,
When Boo Kaloom, the brave and good,
Falls by the unbeliever's spear.