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An Indian Love Song
Written to an Indian tune
He:
Lift up the veils that darken the delicate moon of thy glory and grace,
Withhold not, O Love, from the night of my longing the joy of thy luminous face,
Give me a spear of the scented keora guarding thy pinioned curls,
Or a silken thread from the fringes that trouble the dream of thy glimmering pearls;
Faint grows my soul with thy tresses' perfume and the song of thy anklets' caprice,
Revive me, I pray, with the magical nectar that dwells in the flower of thy kiss.
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