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.