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Arabian Poetry, by W. A. Clouston, [1881], at

p. 135


LEILA, with too successful art,
  Has spread for me Love's cruel snare;
And now, when she has caught my heart,
  She laughs, and leaves it to despair.

Thus the poor sparrow pants for breath,
  Held captive by a playful boy;
And while it drinks the draught of death,
  The thoughtless child looks on with joy.

Ah! were its fluttering pinions free,
  Soon would it bid its chains adieu;
Or did the child its sufferings see,
  He'd pity and relieve them too.

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