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XXXVIII A BUFFALO RIDE
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82

XXXVIII A BUFFALO RIDE

The hour to leave the field has come,
Hamâdi all day in the sun
Beside his lop-eared goat has run;
Weary of work, and tired of fun,
Now, who shall bear Hamâdi home?
The little lad is fain to ride,
Loods longingly toward his mother,
But Hamad has a baby-brother,
Frail thing, she cannot bear another
Upon her shoulders set astride.
Before them, with a plough-beam, goes
The ox who toils to bring them bread;
She cries, the creature stops stone dead,
And to the dust bends down his head,
Most docile of all buffaloes.
See! to the horns Hamâdi clings,
He knows his friend is true and staunch,
The great head lifts, and on his paunch
The boy creeps up o'er neck to haunch,
And wins with pride a seat for kings.