Yet born in Java’s fragrant wood,
To warm an Eastern monarch’s blood,
The sun those rich perfections gave me,
Which tempted Dutchmen to enslave me.
“Nor are my virtues here unknown,
Tho’ old and wrinkled now I’m grown.
Black as I am, the fairest maid
Invokes my stimulating aid,
To give her food the poignant flavour,
And, to each sauce, its proper savour.