MY LOTUS LADY
From yonder seas, There comes so calm
A tropic breeze, Like breath of balm,
Which lulls to ease, Beneath a palm.
My lotus lady of the East.
She’s wondrous rare, This Eastern prize,
With silken hair, And dreamy eyes,
There’s none so fair, Beneath the skies,
As she, to say the very least,
And to this maid, Her charms arrayed,
I sing this Egypt serenade.
My lotus Lady, sown on the Nile,
‘Neath palm trees shady, let’s rest awhile,
Make this Arcadee, Me and my Maidie,
In highly proper oriental style,
We’ll go to Cairo, Upon our ‘dile,
No maid is there, oh, to match your smile,
This land of Pharaoh, Has none so rare, oh!
My lotus lady, down upon the Nile.
Once in a while, We boat, we do,
Adown the Nile, But no canoe,
A crocodile, That’s built for two,
Is what we use in Egypt, here,
As with the tide, So firm and strong,
We slowly glide, The banks along,
I sing my bride, A boatman’s song,
Ala Venetian Gondolier,
But it’s no tune, Anent the moon,
It’s only this Egyptian croon.