The gypsy's wedding day

My father is the king of the gypsies

that is true;

And my mother she has learnt me

some camping to do,

With my pack upon my back I hope

you wish me well,

For I'm just a-going to London some

fortunes for to tell.

As I was a-walking through

a fair London street

A handsome young squire

I chanced for to meet,

He viewed my brown cheeks

and he liked me so well,

He said," Me little gypsy girl

can you me fortune tell?"

"Oh yes," I replied, "give me

hold of your hand

For you have got riches

both houses and land,

But all those pretty lassies

you must lay aside,

For it is the little gypsy girl

that's going to be your bride."

The adieu to the meadows

and to the shady grove,

No more with my sisters

a-camping will I rove

The bells they shall ring merrily

and sweet the music play,

And will crown the glad tidings

of the gypsy's wedding day.

Oh! once I was a gypsy girl,

but now a squire's bride,

I've servants for to wait on me

and in the carriage ride,

The bells they shall ring merrily

and sweet the music play,

And will crown the glad tidings

of the gypsy's wedding day.