A Tuggaree twined in thy hair.
And about thy head shall play
A sportive punkah all the day;
While the bulbul’s song by night
Shall fill thee with supreme delight,
And to the tomtom’s plaintive string
Shall Koot Nerbudda Chundra sing.
Maid of Ganges! dost thou love
To watch the smoke-rings curl above?
Dost thou smoke? Then so do I,