Down on the deserts of Arabia
There is a pretty Bedouin queen,
Safe on my steed I sit and dream of her,
Framed in the sunlight’s golden sheen.
My Maid of Mystery
You threw a kiss to me,
You stole an Arab lovers [sic] heart.
In Bagdad ‘neath the olive trees,
I cherish memories of the time
When my khedive bids me start
Across the desert grand into a distant land,
Off to the big black sea
And through the mist I’ll ride,
To make you my bride,
My Maid of Mystery.
Her lips like rubys [sic] set with ivory
Her skin of olive, hair of jet,
Out of the mist she seems to sigh to me,
I know she’s waiting for me yet.