On wings of song--ah, lightly, Heart's dearest, I bear thee away: A nook is beckoning brightly Where Ganges' waters play. A blooming red garden is lying In moonlight calm and clear, The lotos flowers are sighing For thee, their sister dear. The violets banter and slyly They peep at the star-rays pale, The roses are whispering shyly Some fragrant fairy-tale. the gentle gazelles come leaping, And hearken what we say; The sacred river is sweeping And murmuring far away. Beloved, let us be sinking Under the shady palm. The blissful quiet drinking And dreaming dreams of balm. |