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Gypsy's Warning Do not trust him, gentle lady, though his voice be low and sweet Heed not him who kneels before you, gently pleading at thy feet Now thy life is in its morning; cloud not this thy happy lot Listen to the gypsy's warning, gentle lady, heed him not Listen to the gypsy's warning, gentle lady, head him not Do not turn so coldly from me, I would only guard thy youth From his stern and withering power, I would only tell the truth I would shield thee from all danger, save thee from tempter's snare Lady shun the dark-eyed stranger, I have warned thee, now beware Lady shun the dark-eyed stranger, I have warned thee, now beware Lady, once there lived a maiden, pure and bright, and like thee, fair But he wooed and wooed and won her, filed her gentle heart with care Then he heeded not her weeping, nor cared he her life to save Soon she perished, now she's sleeping in the cold and silent grave... Keep thy gold, I do not wish it. Lady, I have prayed for this For the hour that I might foil him, rob him of expected bliss Gentle lady, do not wonder at my words,so cold and wild Lady, in that green grave yonder lies the gypsy's only child Lady, do not heed her warning. Trust me, thou shalt find me true Constant as the light of morning I will ever be to you Lady, I will not deceive thee, fill thy guileless heart with woe Trust me, lady, and believe me; sorrow thou shall never know Stranger, I've been thinking sadly, how you promised, wooed and won How her innocent love gladly heard fair words, built hopes thereon Now she's in the cold ground sleeping by the river's moaning wave And the willows now are weeping o'er that maiden's early grave Warnings from that grave do tell me, and a living voice I hear Of a wooer who would seek me, pleading by a love sincere That without me, life is sorrow; take this hand and heart of mine Promise bliss for every morrow, then forsake me, let me pine Stranger, I will heed the warning coming from the river's side Flowers you strew there in the morning, I'll renew at eventide There we'll walk, but not together, for the gypsy tells me true Mourns her child in tears that smother every kindly thought of you Lady, every joy would perish, pleasures all would wither fast If no heart could love and cherish in this world of storm and blast E'en the stars that gleam above thee shine the brightest in the night So would he who fondly loves thee, in the darkness be thy light Down beside the flowing river where the dark green willow weeps Where the leafy branches quiver, there a gentle maiden sleeps In the morn a lonely stranger comes and lingers many hours Lady, he's no heartless ranger, for he strews her grave with flowers Lady, heed thee not her warning, lay thy soft white hand in mine For I seek no fairer laurel than the constant love of thine When the silver moonlight brightens, thou shalt slumber on my breast Tender words thy soul shall lighten, lull thy spirit into rest Down beside yon flowing river, there bereft where willows weep There must lie that fair one ever. Stranger, why these vigils keep? Why go there alone and early, all those mornings flowers to strew? Did you love, in truth, so dearly? Do you grieve as others do? printed in Folk Songs Out of Wisconsin SOF
Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!