UNDER THE CRESCENT
Lo! the east wind called to thee,
Sang a song that’s never old,
Of a love across the sea,
Nights of silver, days of gold,
Perfume palace, blossomed tree,
‘Twas a wond’rous tale it told.
Where the music softly plays
Arab songs of life and love,
Where the barefoot dancer sways
Languid incense steals above;
Where the misty desert gleams
And pale silver is the dune,
There I’m lonely with my dreams,
So lonely under the crescent,
Under the crescent moon.
East winds lead thee from the west
To a lotus-scented land,
Where loved caged thee,
bade thee rest,
Bound thee with an iron band;
And the song seemed bitter jest
As it whispered ‘cross the sand.