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thou hear the tom-toms throbbing, Like a lonely lover sobbing For the beauty that is robbing him of all his life's delight? Plaintive sounds, restrained, enthralling, Seeking through the twilight falling Something lost beyond recalling, in the darkness of the night.

Oh, my little, loved Firoza, Come and nestle to me closer, Where the golden-balled Mimosa makes a canopy above, For the day, so hot and burning, Dies away, and night, returning, Sets thy lover's spirit yearning for thy beauty and thy love.

Soon will come the rosy warning Of the bright relentless morning, When, thy soft caresses scorning, I shall leave thee in the shade. All the day my work must chain me, And its weary bonds restrain me, For I may not re-attain thee till the light begins to fade.

But at length the long day endeth, As the cool of night descendeth His last strength thy lover spendeth in returning to thy breast, 54