Hark, love, to the tambourines
1
Of the minstrels in the street,
And one voice that throbs and soars
Clear above the clashing time!
Some Egyptian royal love-lilt,
5
Vows of Paphos or of Tyre,
Mount against the silver sun.
Pleading, piercing, yet serene,
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Vagrant in a foreign town,
From what passion was it born,
In what lost land over sea?