Arabian Serenade

The silver silence of the night has spun

A web of glamour o'er the purple sea.

The Watcher of the Sky has lit his lamp.

Waken, my white one; come thou forth with me.

We will go softly through the shining meadows,

Setting our faces to the distant moon;

Drenching our feet in pureness, and our souls

Drenched in the sweetness of the bulbul's tune.

Come forth, O Maid, the Feast is well prepared.

Between the dim wood and the purple sea

The world hangs breathless and the stars look down.

Waken, Zareiba; come forth with me!