Sweetheart, thy lips are touched with flame
Sings the nightingale to the rose
The rose leans over the pool
Love`s like a summer rose
As in waves without number
Dear love, when in thine arms I...Читать дальше

Sweetheart, thy lips are touched with flame
Sings the nightingale to the rose
The rose leans over the pool
Love`s like a summer rose
As in waves without number
Dear love, when in thine arms I lie
Was I not thine
In mead where roses bloom
Sister fairest, why are thou sighing?
Oh, let night speak of me
I said to the Wind of the South
Were I a Prince Egyptian

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