Sheila Nee Iyer - Dervish

It was on the banks of a clear, flowing stream

That first I accosted that comely young dame

And in great confusion I did ask her name

Are you Flora, Aurora, or the fame queen of Tyre?

She answered, «I'm neither, I’m Sheila Nee Iyer

Go rhyming, rogue, let my flocks roam in peace

You won’t find amongst them that famed Golden Fleece

Or the tresses of Helen, that goddess of Greece

Have hanked 'round your heart like a doll of desire

Be off to your speirbhean,"said Sheila Nee Iyer

May the sufferings of Sisyphus fall to my share

And may I the torments of Tantalus bear

To the dark land of Hades let my soul fall an heir

Without linnet in song or a note on the lyre

If ever I prove false to you, Sheila Nee Iyer

Oh had I the wealth of the Orient store

Or the gems of Peru or the Mexican ore

Or the hand of the Midas to mold o’er and o’er

Bright bracelets of gold or of flaming sapphire

I’d robe you in splendor, my Sheila Nee Iyer