When the little armadillo
With his head upon his pillow
Sweetly rests,
And the parrakeet and lindo
Flitting past my cabin window
Seek their nests,—
When the mists of even settle
Over Popocatapetl,
Dropping dew,—
Like the condor, over yonder,
Still I ponder, ever fonder,
Dear, of You!
May no revolution shock you,
May the earthquake gently rock you
To repose,
While the sentimental panthers
Sniff the pollen-laden anthers
Of the rose!
While the pelican is pining,
While the moon is softly shining
On the stream,
May the song that I am singing
Send a tender cadence winging
Through your dream!
I have just one wish to utter—
That you twinkle through your shutter
Like a star,
While, according to convention,
I shall cas-u-ally mention
My guitar.
Señorita Maraquita,
Muy bonita, pobracita!—
Hear me weep!—
But the night is growing wetter,
So I guess that you had better
Go to sleep.
Arthur Guiterman.
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