Collected by Merlin Mitchell
Transcribed by Mary C. Parler
Mrs. Robert A. Hill
Golden City, Missouri
July 20, 1950
Reel 63, Item 4
The Decision in the Gypsy's Warning
Down beside yon flowing river
There bereft, where willows weep,
There must lie that fair one ever,
Stranger, why those vigils keep?
Why go there alone and early,
All those morning flowers to strew?
Did you love in truth so dearly?
Do you grieve as others do?
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.
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