Under the rose-tree's dancing shade
There stands a little ivory girl
Pulling the leaves of pink and pearl
With pale green nails of polished jade
The red leaves fall upon the mould
The white leaves flutter, one by one
Down to a blue bowl where the sun
Like a great dragon, writhes in gold
The white leaves float upon the air
The red leaves flutter idly down
Some fall upon her yellow gown
And some upon her raven hair
She takes an amber lute and sings
And as she sings a silver crane
Begins his scarlet neck to strain
And flap his burnished metal wings
She takes a lute of amber bright
And from the thicket where he hides
Her lover, with his almond eyes
Watches her movements with delight
And now she gives a cry of fear
And tiny tears begin to start:
A thorn has wounded with its dart
The pink-veined sea-shell of her ear
There stands a little ivory girl
Pulling the leaves of pink and pearl
With pale green nails of polished jade
The red leaves fall upon the mould
The white leaves flutter, one by one
Down to a blue bowl where the sun
Like a great dragon, writhes in gold
The white leaves float upon the air
The red leaves flutter idly down
Some fall upon her yellow gown
And some upon her raven hair
She takes an amber lute and sings
And as she sings a silver crane
Begins his scarlet neck to strain
And flap his burnished metal wings
She takes a lute of amber bright
And from the thicket where he hides
Her lover, with his almond eyes
Watches her movements with delight
And now she gives a cry of fear
And tiny tears begin to start:
A thorn has wounded with its dart
The pink-veined sea-shell of her ear
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