Come, my beauty; come, my dessert darling!
On my shoulder lay thy glossy head!
Fear not, though the barley sack be empty,
Here's half of Hassan's scanty bread.
Thou shalt have thy share of dates, my beauty!
And thou knowest my water skin is free;
Drink and be welcome, for the wells are distant,
And my strength and safety lie in thee.
Bend thy forehead, now, to take my kisses!
Lift in love thy dark and splendid eye;
Thou art glad when Hassan mounts the saddle--
Thou art proud he owns thee; so am I.
Let the Sultan bring his broadest horses,
Prancing with their diamond-studded reins;
They, my darling, shall not match thy fleetness,
When they course with thee the desert plains.
We have seen Damascus, O my beauty!
And the splendour of the pachas there;
What's their pomp and riches? Why, I would not
Take them for a handful of they hair.