Lyrics
Mid the harem's lonely bow'rs,
While I waste my captive hours,
Far from Georgian vales remov'd,
Far from all I fondly lov'd,
Vainly ev'ry path I range,
or seek the weary scenes to change;
They all appear the haunts of care,
For liberty is wanting there.
All that swell the sultan's train,
Chant their songs of mirth in vain;
Vain is all their softest art
E'er to sooth my aching heart;
Feast and dance in vain essay
To cheat the languid hours away,
Or drown the sigh of deep despair,
For liberty is wanting there.