THE GYPSYING

I wish we might go gypsying one day the while we're young — On a blue October morning Beneath a cloudless sky, When all the world's a vibrant harp

The winds o’ God have strung, And gay as tossing torches the maples light us by; The rising sun before us — a golden bubble swung — I wish we might go gypsying one day the while we're young.

I wish we might go gypsying one day before we're old — To step it with the wild west wind And sing the while we go, Through far forgotten orchards

Hung with jewels red and gold; Through cool and fragrant forests where never sun may show, To stand upon a high hill and watch the mist unfold — I wish we might go gypsying one day before we're old.

I wish we might go gypsying, dear lad, the while we care — The while we've heart for hazarding, The while we've will to sing, The while we've wit to hear the call

And youth and mirth to spare, Before a day may find us too sad for gypsying, Before a day may find us too dull to dream and dare — I wish we might go gypsying, dear lad, the while we care.