We, who wand'ring Arabs are

We, who wand'ring Arabs are,

Fly from sorrow, laugh at care,

let the notes of love resound,

and the ruby cup go round,

Whilst the gale its fragrance brings,

and the Summer flowret springs.

We, who wand'ring Arabs are,

Fly from sorrow, fly from care,

Who can tell tomorrow's doom,

If the rose of life shall bloom,

Or, beneath the blightning shade,

Droop untimely, pine and fade.