An Episode

Along the narrow Moorish street
    A blue-eyed soldier strode.
    (Ah, well-a-day)
Veiled from her lashes to her feet
    She stepped from her abode,
    (Ah, lack-a-day).

Now love may guard a favoured wife
    Who leaves the harem door;
    (Ah, well-a-day)
But hungry hearted is her life
    When she is one of four.
    (Ah, lack-a-day.)

If black eyes glow with sudden fire
    And meet warm eyes of blue -
    (Ah, well-a-day).
The old, old story of desire
    Repeats itself anew.
    (Ah, lack-a-day.)

When bugles blow the soldier flies -
    Though bitter tears may fall
    (Ah, lack-a-day).
A MOORISH CHILD WITH BLUE, BLUE EYES
    PLAYS IN THE HAREM HALL.
    (Ah, well-a-day.)