SONG OF THE NUBIAN GIRL.

By Thomas Moore

O Abyssinian tree,

We pray, we pray to thee;

By the glow of thy golden fruit

And the violet hue of the flower,

And the greeting mute

Of thy boughs’ salute

To the stranger who seeks thy bow.

O Abyssinian tree!

How the traveller blesses thee

When the light no moon allows,

And the sunset hour is near,

And thou bend'st thy boughs

To kiss his brows.

Saying, “Come, rest thee here.”

O Abyssinian tree!

Thus bow thy head to me!