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There were three gypsies a come to my door,
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And downstairs ran this lady, O!
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One sang high and another sang low,
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And the other sang bonny, bonny, Biscay, O!
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Then she pulled off her silk finished gown
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And put on hose of leather, O!
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The ragged, ragged, rags about our door,
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She's gone with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!
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It was late last night, when my lord came home,
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Enquiring for his a-lady, O!
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The servants said, on every hand,
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She's gone with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!
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O saddle to me my milk-white steed,
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Go and fetch me my pony, O!
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That I may ride and seek my bride,
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Who is gone with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!
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O he rode high and he rode low,
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He rode through woods and copses too,
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Until he came to an open field,
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And there he espied his a-lady, O!
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What makes you leave your house and land?
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What makes you leave your money, O?
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What makes you leave your new wedded lord?
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To go with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!
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What care I for my house and my land?
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What care I for my money, O?
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What care I for my new wedded lord?
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I'm off with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!
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Last night you slept on a goose-feather bed,
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With the sheet turned down so bravely, O!
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And to-night you'll sleep in a cold open field,
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Along with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!
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What care I for a goose-feather bed?
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With the sheet turned down so bravely, O!
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For to-night I shall sleep in a cold open field,
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Along with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!
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The Wraggle, Taggle Gypsies, O!
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| Andreas Scholl |
