... "Rabiah was feeble, slowly recovering from severe wounds. Who has not heard of Rabiah? the lion of the Nejd, whose eyes were like burning coals, whose form was like the at'l, (oak,) whose voice was as a tempest; before whose lance the brave fell bathed in blood, and the timid fled like herds of antelopes... When Rabiah came forth to battle and shouted his war-cry, the maidens of the Otebah wrung their hands, saying 'Alas for my brother!'..." (The Eclectic Magazine of Foreign Literature, &c., Jan-April, 1858)