GIPSY LIFE.
Oh the life of the gipsy, Is the life for me, When the camp-fire's burning, And all the leaves are turning Red and gold. ° Oh the life of the gipsy Is the life for me. With the wild waves dashing On the bare rocks crashing ° Grey and old. Oh the life of the gipsy Is the life for me. With the birds all singing Their notes gently rinrriiTaThrough the vale' c Oh the life of the gipsv Is the life for me, " With the wild flowers arrowing And with quiet cows lowin°- C Oe'r the dale. Oh the life of the gipsy Is the life for me. With Nature's leafy bow'rs Where I spend the many hours, Grave and gay.
Oh the life of the "insy Is the life for me. The sun is rising in her glory, It is the same old story," Day by day.
[This little poem arrived at PeW Pun"s offire without any name or-oover-lilfT letter. Will the writer advise Peter J'an.]
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/AS19370522.2.194.5
Bibliographic details
Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 120, 22 May 1937, Page 2 (Supplement)
Word Count
168GIPSY LIFE. Auckland Star, Volume LXVIII, Issue 120, 22 May 1937, Page 2 (Supplement)
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Acknowledgements
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