Softly the breezes were sighing,
Gently the daylight was dying,
As in a Persian Garden,
Lingered a poet there.
Deep in his heart that was yearning
The fire of true love was burning,
For an Oriental maiden,
There ‘mid the flowers he sang.
Persian Pearl, Orient Girl,
In the young moon’s silver light
Here I wait for you tonight,
Stars gleam above,
True as my love;
Night time falls,
My love calls,
You’re the Mecca that my soul craves,
Birds and flowers, they are your slaves,
Here in my Persian Garden.
Still in the same Persian Garden,
Lingers the sould of the dreamer,
E’en tho’ the years have vanished,
Thousands of years or more,
Yet at the twilight hour,
There ‘mid the beautiful flowers
From out the same lovers’ bower
A voice thru the garden sings.