The Gipsie's Warning |
Do not trust him gentle lady, Tho' 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 gipsie's warning, Gentle Lady trust him not. :|
2. Do not turn so coldly from me, | 3. Lady, once there lived a maiden, Pure and bright, and like thee, fair, But he wooed, and wooed, and won her, Filled 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. :|
4. Keep thy gold, I do not wish it! |