Your existence like a blessing to me
Wakes my sick soul to dreamful ecstasy,
I fancy that some old Arabian night
Saw you, my houri, and my heart’s delight.

And wandering onward beneath the fervent moon,
Your love-strung zither and my soul in tune,
We knew the joy, the melancholy of the pain
That like a flame thrills through me now again.

Tonight we sit where sweet, the spice winds blow,
A wind the northland lacks and never shall know,
With fastened hands and spirits all aglow
As in Arabia, long ago