CAN tute rakker Romany? Then, hey! for the fields and the forests green Lawyer or banker or dominie, It does not matter what you have been. Rye, larishan! A greeting fair To all that live beneath the sun; To men, to birds, to stag, to hare, To all the things that creep or run. Ah, I am in a gypsy mood, That comes from days of long ago! A subtle something in my blood, I cannot name, but only know. Rye, larishan! I may not give You formal greeting on a day like this; When all the things that move or live Thrill with the rapture of the spring sun's kiss. The scent of field and upturned sod; The gleam and flash of the blue jay's wing; The shimmer of leaves as they bend and nod; The perfume the hedge rows glad outfling. These beckon me, and I will not stay Here in the noisy man-cursed town. I am off to the road, to the scents of May, To my old sweetheart in her springtime gown. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WITCH by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE MADLY SINGING IN THE MOUNTAINS by PO CHU-YI THE LAMENTATION OF DANAE by SIMONIDES OF CEOS LOVE: AN ELEGY by MARK AKENSIDE TO SIGURD by KATHARINE LEE BATES TO A BUNCH OF GRAPES; RIPENING IN MY WINDOW by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES |