THE WANDERERS
GYPSY
Where the cool brown river runs,
Over the shining pebbles, through deep pools
The setting sun turns first to molten gold,
Then hues with pigeons' breasts, purple and pink,
Then fills with inky shadows where the moon
Plunges at midnight.
'Neath the glimmering stacks
Below the waiting stars I dream good dreams,
And catch the sky's faint blush, and bathe in the brook,
And tread the firm green grass and follow the clouds,
Till drowsy noon.
I sing before her door,
And the farmer's wife brings honey to me, and bread
And milk beneath the pink, sweet apple-boughs.
Where the cool brown river runs,
Over the shining pebbles, through deep pools
The setting sun turns first to molten gold,
Then hues with pigeons' breasts, purple and pink,
Then fills with inky shadows where the moon
Plunges at midnight.
'Neath the glimmering stacks
Below the waiting stars I dream good dreams,
And catch the sky's faint blush, and bathe in the brook,
And tread the firm green grass and follow the clouds,
Till drowsy noon.
I sing before her door,
And the farmer's wife brings honey to me, and bread
And milk beneath the pink, sweet apple-boughs.
PRINCE
Will you not sing to me?
(Gypsy sings.)
Will you not sing to me?
(Gypsy sings.)
The king he wooed the Gypsy maid
And kissed her to the throne;
She fell asleep, but blood runs deep,
And the forest claims its own!
And kissed her to the throne;
She fell asleep, but blood runs deep,
And the forest claims its own!
MAN-AT-ARMS
Leave us, I say!
Leave us, I say!
PRINCE
You shall not threaten him!
You shall not threaten him!
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