The Water Peri's Song.

Farewell, farewell, to my mother's own daughter. The child that she wet-nursed is lapp'd in the wave; The Mussulman, coming to fish in this water, Adds a tear to the flood that weeps over her grave. This sack is her coffin, this water's her bier, This grayish bath cloak is her funeral pall; And, stranger, O stranger! this song that you hear Is her epitaph, elegy, dirges, and all! Farewell, farewell, to the child of Al Hassan, My mother's own daughter - the last of her race - She's a corpse, the poor body! and lies in this basin, And sleeps in the water that washes her face.