A LITTLE maid of Astrakan, An idol on a silk divan; She sits so still, and never speaks, She holds a cup of mine; 'T is full of wine, and on her cheeks Are stains and smears of wine. Thou little girl of Astrakan, I join thee on the silk divan: There is no need to seek the land, The rich bazaars where rubies shine; For mines are in that little hand, And on those little cheeks of thine. |