I love a gown of crimson hue, A purple shawl or scarf of blue, A hat awry, with plumes that fly, And 'round my tawny neck to fling Queer crystal beads, O, string on string; To weave red blossoms in my braid, Wear rings of ruby, pearl or jade— It is my Gypsy heritage! I love to ramble on the way And find the flowers bright and gay, To take my ease, do as I please, And with my tambourine to sing To happy thrushes on the wing, And feel the warm, soft wind at play While summer blithely flits away— It is my Gypsy heritage! I love to find a forest rill, To climb a distant luring hill, And in the night to watch the light Of stars that gleam so far away, Their witchery then seems to say, "O shed your weary, earthly load Upon a little winding road"— It is my Gypsy heritage! I know a boy with eyes of fun That really dance and laugh at one, The Irish race plain on his face, I know I keep him in despair— But Pedro, he has raven hair, And when he speaks and smiles at me My heart then wildly sings with glee— It is my Gypsy heritage! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SEVEN TWILIGHTS: 6 by CONRAD AIKEN THE TEMPTRESS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE FEAST OF LIGHTS by EMMA LAZARUS GOLDWING MOTH by CARL SANDBURG TROY PARK: 5. THE CAT by EDITH SITWELL NURSING HOME: THE VISIT by KAREN SWENSON |