Unless you come of the gipsy stock |
That steals by night and day, |
Lock your heart with a double lock |
And throw the key away. |
Bury it under the blackest stone |
Beneath your father’s hearth, |
And keep your eyes on your lawful own |
And your feet to the proper path. |
Then you can stand at your door and mock |
When the gipsy vans come through… |
For it isn't right that the Gorgio stock |
Should live as the Romany do. |
|
Unless you come of the gipsy blood |
That takes and never spares, |
Bide content with your given good |
And follow your own affairs. |
Plough and harrow and roll your land, |
And sow what ought to be sowed; |
But never let loose your heart from your hand, |
Nor flitter it down the road! |
Then you can thrive on your boughten food |
|
For it isn't nature the Gorgio blood |
Should love as the Romany do. |
|
Unless you carry the gipsy eyes |
That see but seldom weep, |
Keep your head from the naked skies |
Or the stars'll trouble your sleep. |
Watch your moon through your window-pane |
And take what weather she brews: |
But don’t run out in the midnight rain |
|
Nor home in the morning dews. |
Then you can huddle and shut your eyes |
As the gipsy vans come through... |
For it isn't fitting the Gorgio ryes |
Should walk as the Romany do. |
|
Unless you come of the gipsy race |
That counts all time the same, |
Be you careful of Time and Place |
And Judgment and Good Name: |
Lose your life for to live your life |
The way that you ought to do; |
And when you are finished, your God and your wife |
’ll laugh at you! |
|
As the gipsy vans come through... |
For it isn't reason the Gorgio race |
Should die as the Romany do. |