Words for the Chisel (collection)/Gipsy Confession

by Genevieve Taggard

Gipsy Confession

There was a lad as cold as ice;He was my lover,—twice.

(Don't ask me more; it isn't nice,—Cruel cold, or I shouldn't beCounting them up now. Listen to me.)

There was a fellow, once,—I hoped . . .The and another girl eloped;

A certain lad had let me think—He went away and took a drink;

Then came a poet suave as oil—But I was much too giddy to spoil;

There was a man with a bold black beard,But he was nothing to be feared. . . .

Yet there have been and there will beOne or two or even threeCould make a wanton girl of me:

(A wanton girl is hard to findWhen so many men are dull or blind,Or take a drink, or change their mind. . . . )