I wish we might go gypsying one day the while we're young.

I wish we might go gypsying one day before we're old—

To step it with the wild west wind

And sing the while we go,

Through far forgotten orchards

Hung with jewels red and gold;

Through cool and fragrant forests where never sun may show,

To stand upon a high hill and watch the mist unfold—

I wish we might go gypsying one day before we're old.

I wish we might go gypsying, dear lad, the while we care—