With want opprest, with rags o'erspread,
By sordid labors at the loom
Must earn a poor, precarious bread.

Those feet that never touched the ground,
Till musk or camphor strew'd the way,
Now bare and swoll'n with many a wound.
Must struggle thro' the miry clay.

Those radiant cheeks are veil'd in woe,
A shower descends from every eye,
And not a starting tear can flow,
That wakes not an attending sigh.

Fortune, that whilom own'd my sway,
And bow'd obsequious to my nod,
Now sees me destin'd to obey,
And bend beneath oppression's rod.

Ye mortals with success elate,
Who bask in hope's delusive beam,
Attentive view Mohammed's fate,
And own that bliss is but a dream.

_Mohammed Bed Abad_.

[33] Seville was one of those small sovereignties into which Spain
had been divided after the extinction of the house of Ommiah. It
did not long retain its independence, and the only prince who ever
presided over it as a separate kingdom seems to have been Mohammed