"Rise up, rise up, Xarifa, lay your golden cushion down;
Rise up, come to the window, and gaze with all the town.
From gay guitar and violin the silver notes are flowing,
And the lovely lute doth speak between the trumpet's lordly blowing,
And banners bright from lattice light are waving everywhere,
And the tall, tall plume of the bridegroom floats proudly in the air:
    Rise up, rise up, Xarifa, lay your golden cushion down;
    Rise up, come to the window, and gaze with all the town.

"Arise, arise, Xarifa, I see Andalla's face,
He bends him to the people with a calm and princely grace,
Through all the land of Xeres and banks of Guadalquivir
Rode forth bridegroom so brave as he, so brave and lovely never.
Yon tall plume waving o'er his brow of azure mixed with white,
I guess 'twas wreathed by Zara, whom he will wed to-night;
    Rise up, rise up, Xarifa, lay your golden cushion down;
    Rise up, come to the window, and gaze with all the town.

The Zegri lady rose not, nor laid her cushion down,
Nor came she to the window to gaze with all the town;
And though her eyes dwelt on her knee, in vain her fingers strove,
And though her needle pressed the silk, no flower Xarifa wove;
One lovely rose-bud she had traced, before the noise grew nigh --
That rose-bud now a tear effaced, slow drooping from her eye.
    "No -- no," she cries -- "bid me not rise, nor lay my golden cushion down,
    To gaze upon Andalla with all the gazing town."

What aileth thee, Xarifa, what makes thy lovely eyes look down?
Why stay you from the window far, nor gaze with all the town?
Hark, hear the trumpets, how they swell, and how the people cry!
He stops at Zara's palace gate -- why sit ye still -- oh, why?"
"At Zara's gate stops Zara's mate; in him shall I discover
The dark-eyed youth pledged me his truth with tears, and was my lover?
    No, no, she cries, I will not rise, nor lay my golden cushion down,
    To gaze on false Andalla with all the gazing town!"