2 min read
Слушать(AI)Gipsy Love
The gipsy tents are on the down,
The gipsy girls are here;
And it's O to be off and away from the town With a gipsy for my dear!
We'd make our bed in the bracken With the lark for a chambermaid;
The lark would sing us awake in the morning,
Singing above our head.
We'd drink the sunlight all day long With never a house to bind us;
And we'd only flout in a merry song The world we left behind us.
We would be free as birds are free The livelong day, the livelong day;
And we would lie in the sunny bracken With none to say us nay.
The gipsy tents are on the down,
The gipsy girls are here;
And it's O to be off and away from the town With a gipsy for my dear!
Arthur Symons
Arthur William Symons (28 February 1865 – 22 January 1945), was a British poet, critic and magazine editor.
Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments
Other author posts
The Old Women
They pass upon their old, tremulous feet, Creeping with little satchels down the street, And they remember, many years ago, Passing that way in silks
The Last Memory
When I am old, and think of the old days, And warm my hands before a little blaze, Having forgotten love, hope, fear, desire, I shall see, smiling out of the pale fire,
To A Portrait
A pensive photograph Watches me from the shelf--Ghost of old love, and half Ghost of myself How the dear waiting eyes Watch me and love me yet--Sad home of memories, Her waiting eyes Ghost of old love, wronged ghost, Return: though all t...
Perfume
Shake out your hair about me, so, That I may feel the stir and Of those vague odours come and The way our kisses went