In the old Alhambra garden,
Neath the shade of orange trees,
Where the fountain murmur'd softly
In the perfumed evening breeze.

There we met and talk'd together,
Till the stars had gemm'd the sky,
Thou, a scholar wise and learned,
But a gipsy maiden I.

Ah! Thro' olive groves with merry song I go,
While echo trills the gay refrain,
As day by day, with footstep light as air,
I dance my way thro' sunny Spain.

Oh, golden hours when lovers dream,
Of joys all earthly bliss above;
When ev'ry good that mortals prize
Is theirs who own the pow'r of Love.

And from that glad day I wonder'd
Why my way so oft was thine;
Till I learnt thy happy secret,
Till I knew thy heart was mine.

Now for thee bright eyes are gleaming,
And for thee fair ladies sigh,
But there's none could love thee better,
Tho' a gipsy maiden I.