Sunrise in the Tropics Sol,
Sol, mighty lord of the tropic zone,
Here I wait with the trembling stars To see thee once more take thy throne.
There the patient palm tree
Waits to say, "Good morn" to thee,
And a throb of
Pulses through the earth and me.
Now, o'er nature falls a hush,
Look! the East is all a-blush;
And a growing crimson
Dims the late stars in the west;
Now, a flood of golden
Sweeps acress the silver night,
Swift the pale moon fades
Before the light-girt King of Day,
See! the miracle is done!
Once more behold!
The Sun!
Los Cigarillos This is the land of the dark-eyed gente,
Of the dolce far niente,
Where we dream
Both the night and day,
At night-time in sleep our dreams we invoke,
Our dreams come by day through the redolent smoke,
As it lazily curls,
And slowly
From our lips,
And the
Of our fragrant cigarillos.
For life in the tropics is only a joke,
So we pass it in dreams, and we pass it in smoke,
Smoke — smoke — smoke.
Tropical
Call for occasional revolutions;
But after that's through,
Why there's nothing to
But smoke — smoke;
For life in the tropics is only a joke,
So we pass it in dreams, and we pass it in smoke,
Smoke — smoke — smoke.
Teestay Of tropic sensations, the
Is, sin duda, the tropical thirst.
When it starts in your throat and constantly grows,
Till you feel that it reaches down to your toes,
When your mouth tastes like
And your tongue turns to dust,
There's but one thing to do,
And do it you must,
Drink teestay.
Teestay, a drink with a history,
A delicious, delectable mystery,"Cinco centavos el vaso, señor,"If you take one, you will surely want more.
Teestay,
Teestay,
The national drink on a feast day;
How it coolingly tickles,
As downward it trickles,
Teestay, teestay.
And you wish, as you take it down at a quaff,
That your neck was constructed à la giraffe.
Teestay, teestay.
IV The Lottery Girl "Lottery, lottery,
Take a chance at the lottery?
Take a ticket,
Or, better, take two;
Who knows what the
May hold for you?
Lottery, lottery,
Take a chance at the lottery?"Oh, limpid-eyed girl,
I would take every chance,
If only the
Were a love-flashing
From your fathomless eyes."Lottery, lottery,
Try your luck at the lottery?
Consider the
Of the capital prize,
And take
For the lottery.
Tickets, señor?
Tickets, señor?
Take a chance at the lottery?"Oh, crimson-lipped girl,
With the magical smile,
I would count that the
Were well worth the while,
Not a chance would I miss,
If only the
Were a honey-bee
Gathered in
From those full-ripened lips,
And a love-flashing
From your eyes.
V The Dancing Girl Do you know what it is to dance?
Perhaps, you do know, in a fashion;
But by dancing I mean,
Not what's generally seen,
But dancing of fire and passion,
Of fire and delirious passion.
With a dusky-haired señorita,
Her dark, misty eyes near your own,
And her scarlet-red mouth,
Like a rose of the south,
The reddest that ever was grown,
So close that you
Her quick-panting
As across your own face it is blown,
With a sigh, and a moan.
Ah! that is dancing,
As here by the Carib it's known.
Now, whirling and
Like furies we go;
Now, soft and
And sinuously slow;
With an undulating motion,
Like waves on a breeze-kissed ocean:—And the scarlet-red
Is nearer your own,
And the dark, misty
Still softer have grown.
Ah! that is dancing, that is loving,
As here by the Carib they're known.
Sunset in the Tropics A silver flash from the sinking sun,
Then a shot of crimson across the
That, bursting, lets a thousand colors
And riot among the clouds; they run,
Deepening in purple, flaming in gold,
Changing, and opening fold after fold,
Then fading through all of the tints of the rose into gray,
Till, taking quick fright at the coming night,
They rush out down the west,
In hurried
Of the fleeing day.
Now above where the tardiest color flares a moment yet,
One point of light, now two, now three are
To form the starry stairs, —And, in her fire-fly crown,
Queen Night, on velvet slippered feet, comes softly down.
