C. E. Horn
Mrs. Crawford
Firth and Hall

I languish in exile far over the seas,
I long for the breath of my own mountain breeze,
Where I danced to the tabor or threw the Jereed,
And outstripp'd the wild winds on my gallant black steed,
Oh my heart is sad for Araby,
When the sun sinks to rest And the night shadows fall,
No more shall I hear The Muezzin's sweet call;
Nor gaze on that cot By the light of the moon,
Far dearer to me Than the wealth of Karoon;
Oh my heart is sad for Araby;
My heart is sad for Araby.

Through the green palmy shades of our wild mountain home,
Oh how I rejoice With my Zara to roam,
In the footsteps of Alla That Oasis green
Where I was sole monarch and she was my queen,
Oh my heart is sad for Araby;
I languish in Exile, I die far away
from the friends and the home of my life's early day
But they still rise before me all fragrant and fair,
Oh my heart is still with them, my soul is still there,
In my loved, my long-lost Araby,
my loved, my long-lost Araby.