Tattered their garb and torn;
But little recked they what the world might say,
Repaying its scorn with scorn.
“And they taught to me, these gypsies three,
When life is saddened and cold,
How to dream or play or puff it away,
Despising it threefold!
“And oft on my track I would fain cast back
A glance behind me there—
A glance at that crew of tawny hue,