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Poem by Katharine Lee Bates


The April world is misted with emerald and gold;
    The meadow larks are calling sweet and keen;
Gypsy-heart is up and off for woodland and for wold,
    Roaming, roaming, roaming through the green.
                       Gypsy-heart, away!
               Oh, the wind - the wind and sun!
    Take the blithe adventure of the fugitive today;
           Youth will soon be done.

From buds that May is kissing there trembles forth a soul;
    The rosy boughs are whispering the white;
Gypsy-heart is heedless now of thrush and oriole
    Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming of delight
                       Gypsy-heart beware!
              Oh, the song - the song in the blood!
    Magic walks the forest; there's bewitchment on the air.
           Spring is at the flood.

The wings of June are woven of fragrance and of fire;
    Heap roses, crimson roses for her throne.
Gypsy-heart is anguished with tumultuous desire,
    Seeking, seeking, seeking for its own.
                         Gypsy-heart, abide!
                 Oh, the far - the far is the near!
    'Tis a foolish fable that the universe is wide.
                 All the world is here.

Katharine Lee Bates

Katharine Lee Bates's other poems:
  1. A Mountain Storm
  2. Anniversary Hymn
  3. Santa's Stocking
  4. When Lincoln Died
  5. Lydd

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