Читать книгу Come Hither: A Collection of Rhymes and Poems for the Young of All Ages онлайн

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And the carrier's clattering wheels went past and died away.

The gipsies lolled and gossiped, and ate their stolen swedes,

Made merry with mouth-organs, worked toys with piths of reeds:

The old wives puffed their pipes, nigh as black as their hair,

And not one of them all seemed to know the name of care.

Edmund Blunden

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There were three gipsies a-come to my door,

And down-stairs ran this a-lady, O!

One sang high, and another sang low,

And the other sang, Bonny, bonny Biscay, O!

Then she pulled off her silk-finished gown

And put on hose of leather, O!

The ragged, ragged rags about our door—

She's gone with the wraggle taggle gipsies, O!

It was late last night, when my lord came home,

Enquiring for his a-lady, O!

The servants said, on every hand:

"She's gone with the wraggle taggle gipsies, O!"

"O saddle to me my milk-white steed.

Go and fetch me my pony, O!

That I may ride and seek my bride,

Who is gone with the wraggle taggle gipsies, O!"

O he rode high and he rode low,