[THE LOST ROMANY]
The Romany has gone, he has taken all my kisses,
I knew I could not keep him, so I laughed and let him go.
I do not know the road where his freedom and his bliss is,
So take my sober spinning where no gypsy winds can blow.
I will find my life serene, I will wed a pleasant lover,
I may think no more of perfume and the lingering in the lane;
I will rear me sturdy children, and my soul I will discover,
For I will not love a Romany in all this world again.
[COMPENSATION]
If one grew blind thro' gazing
Wide-eyed upon the sun,
What matter when such memoried light
Would last till life were done.
If one should die of loving,
Divinely wild, and brave,
What matter with such dreams to dream
Within the quiet grave.
[UNTAMED]
Ah, we weary so with kisses,
Weary so with your caresses,
As the hooded hawk returning
To its tinkling bells and jesses,
So we flutter to the prison
Of your arms, in meek surrender,
And we grieve when you are angry,
And we smile when you are tender,
But our souls, untamed, are soaring
Where no blandishments can teach them,
Free our hearts, and free our spirits,
Where your hands can never reach them.