Within a 'dobe wall,
In yonder desert, sere and bare,
While purple shadows of the night
Were falling everywhere,
And on the air, so soft and warm,
Faintly came the night-bird's call,
I left her standing there,
Amid the flowers, within a 'dobe wall
In Old Tucson.

Her eyes were dark as pools
In shaded desert wells;
Her words were like the tones
Of far-off mission bells;
The jet-black hue of night
Was on her glorious hair,
And still within that garden
I seem to see her—there
In Old Tucson.

And often in my dreams
She stands within a patio
In Old Tucson, where 'dobe walls
Were builded low;
And in a garden rare the hollyhocks
Grow straight and tall,
Within a 'dobe wall,
Where purple shadows slanting fall—
In Old Tucson.