And offered the bouquet, in exquisite bloom,
To Backsheesh, the daughter of Rahat Lakoum.
No maiden like Backsheesh could tastily cook
A kettle of kismet or joint of tchibouk,
As Alum, brave fellow! sat pensively by,
With a bright sympathetic ka-bob in his eye.
Stern duty compelled him to leave her one day—
(A ship's supercargo was brave Alum Bey)—
To pretty young Backsheesh he made a salaam,