Gypsy Song
You are the safe and firelit room,
I am the open wold;
You are the city, and this your doom-
Never to feel the outer cold,
Never to fear the inner dark:
Never to strain the ears, and hark
For any foot but the foot of Time;
Never to know a loss worth gain
Or soul that's worth the birthing-pain;
Never to find hill worth the climb
Or joy that may be worth the tear —
My Dear!
You are shut in from snow and sleet,
I am out in the wind;
My feet are strange to the trodden street
As you are strange to the winds that beat.
The mists that hover and blind.
I cannot stay, you cannot bind —
My hands unclasp and let you go,
As if you were no more than snow
That slips away from me in rain.
I love you, yet our souls are twain.
For I am knowledge, you are fear.
My Dear.