UPON the road to Roslyn Town, The road that skirts the bay; Upon the road to Roslyn Town, Upon a summer's day, I met a dark-haired Gypsy girl, 'Twas afternoon, and late; With haunting eyes she halted me By Thomas Clapham's gate. She was bent upon the business of A very ancient race; But no mercenary motive marred That sombre Gypsy face. "Oh, maiden beautiful," she said, "Let's tarry on the green— What luck upon the Roslyn Road To meet a Gypsy queen." With amber eyes she read my palm, Then raised them to a stare, "You wed for love, for wealth, for power, And thrice three sons will bear." She asked me for a silver piece, The amber eyeballs glowed; I gave her all the change I had, Upon the Roslyn Road. She begged from me my hosiery, My gloves, and named my beau; She slipped the Solway sandals from The infantry below; She got from me my garnet ring, She cozened off my gown; She left me like Godiva on The Road to Roslyn Town. Oh, I went home across the lots In the gloaming and in tears, But she didn't get my earrings, for The bobbed hair hid my ears. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE ON THE DEATH OF A FAVOURITE CAT, DROWNED IN A TUB by THOMAS GRAY PIANO by DAVID HERBERT LAWRENCE THE OWL by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS MY FRIEND by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS EPITAPH ON TWO YOUNG MEN NAMED LEITCH IN CROSSING THE RIVER SOUTHESK by JAMES BEATTIE |