Romany Girl

Romany girl on the silver sand

What would you have me yearning,

To take you into my loving arms

While the world lay waste, and burning

To touch the sheen of your auburn hair

While the stars look on in wonder,

And watch the hem of your gypsy dress

That tears my heart asunder.

 

Romany girl, is your lovely name

The Jean of a witch returning,

Or just the touch of a love-lost fool

Who’s seeking your brown eyes burning,

The spell of lace at your pretty face

Or caught at your throat a-bunching,

Or sweetness smile of your guiltless guile

Bewitching the Squire, a-lunching.

 

Romany girl, who struts and sways

To dance at the morning graces,

Setting the sand in either hand

To laugh at the wondering faces,

Images burn the fevered brain

Of a man who’s never been tipsy,

Dance on the silver sand again

And look for your love-lost gypsy.

 

David Lewis Paget