GYPSY MELODIES
I am a gypsy, wild and free,
My forehead is dark and sad;
Only a coarsely woven shirt
My body ever clad.
The woods are my nation and my skies,
From my cap, green branches swing,
A rough-hewn violin I’ve made
To play on while I sing.
My bed, the softly spreading moss;
The thunder is God’s own word.
In spite of all, love forced its way
And my gypsy heart was stirred.
FAREWELL
At last I am parting with my youth,
My joyous years have fled,
My youthful days wave me a farewell;
I refuse to turn my head.
No! No! I cannot stop to pause
No matter how they call.
And yet, I often see those days
When the evening shadows fall.
And yet I often see those days
With my weak and aged eyes,
Waving a snow-white handkerchief,
“Farewell” my childhood cries.
SOUTHERN TUNES
I am torn and tortured by love’s all consuming claims,
Bum me and destroy me with your eye’s bright flames.
Offer me as a hostage to your deeply heaving sighs,
Pierce my heart, if need be, with your love’s sweet ties.
Your breath, a fragrant zephyr that in the springtime blows,
Your breath is sweetly scented, your breath exhaustion knows.
And my love that seeks to still your grief and lessen mine
Bubbles over the goblet like a pearly foaming wine.
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