The gypsies are calling On long, winding road. I rush from my hearthside; I lay down my load. The gypsies are singing Beside the red fire. There is no one can hold me For love or for hire. The gypsies are dancing Upon the gold hill. I know that my wild blood Can never be still. My life's with the gypsies. I lay down my load. My heart's with the gypsies. I'm on the high road. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BEFORE A PAINTING by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON CHAMBER MUSIC: 14 by JAMES JOYCE DEJECTION by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES SANTORIN (A LEGEND OF THE AEGEAN) by JAMES ELROY FLECKER INVITATION TO PETERHEAD by JAMES HAY BEATTIE THE BOOK OF EXODUS: SONG OF THE SEA by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE LADY UNKNOWN by ALEXANDER (ALEKSANDR) ALEXANDROVICH BLOK |