Tho' a rug of Persia seems less than dust It is a woven art
Tread upon it lightly if tread you must, it is a maiden's heart
Maidens of Persia weave in their rugs
Stories of romance and bliss
Gaze upon each color trodden and worn
Once it told a story like this
CHORUS:
Here is the red of the rose you brought to me
That night you stole upon my hidden bow'r
He is the gold of the dreams you taught to me
And here's the grey of the dawn our parting hour
And here's the silver of songs you sang to make the nights glad
I'll tell with blue of the waning moon of nights you made me sad
And here's a lock of my hair to swear I'll love you thro' eternity
And here is the rug for my love who loves only me.
Tho' a rug of Persia seems less than dust It is a woven art
Tread upon it lightly if tread you must, it is a maiden's heart
Nimble of finger happy of heart
Weaving she lived 'neath a spell
Did love's sweet confession bring her a tear
That is something rugs never tell