For it’s thrice that I’ve tried to win thee;
Thou would’st not waken; my heart is fain;
For it’s thrice thou would’st not hear me.
But late in night, when the camels rest,
All fixed by their hairy tether,
My heart shall fly to its own warm nest,
Our hearts shall be one together.
Let me but see thy face, sweetheart,
And I shall be brave and strong;
Thou hast stolen away my peace, sweetheart,