Classic Poem

So early on Christmas morning,
No other sound was there,
But bells far off a-ringing
Through the silent frosty air.

So early on Christmas morning,
Between the dark and dawn,
When the stars were going like pigeons,
As the day like a hawk came on;

I heard a noise in the forest,
The voice of a wailing man;
And then a rustling, crackling,
As though a fire began.

I hurried to the burning,
And there upon a rock,
Beside his blazing waggon,
Sat the Gipsy Vester Lock.

" Oh, have you buried your father?
And, like a Rommany true,
Are you burning up his waggon,
As the real old Rommanis do?

" Or is it your good old mother,
Who looked in so many a hand?
She will read no more the future
Since she's gone to the future land. "

" My father is still in London,
And my mother is here, " said he.
" This is burnt for a girl who is living,
But dead for ever to me.

" And whether she walk the South or West,
Or live by East or North,
That wicked girl is in her grave
To me from this day forth.

" Last week we were to marry,
With a dinner and a ball;
And our Rommany rye — you know him —
Got it ready, and paid for all!

" The rye was on the sofa,
The priest was in his chair;
We waited for Otchame,
But Otchame was not there.

" So it all broke up in sorrow,
And we all went off in shame,
(Though we stayed till dinner was over),
Otchame never came.

" And I heard that she said she did it
Because I loved her so,
That for twice the trick and trouble
I never would let her go.

" We met, and she said she was sorry, —
That I still should be her rom ,
And the next time to the wedding
She would really be sure to come!

" But I said: While there's dust on the highway,
And water is in the sea,
There will never be a wedding
In the world between you and me.

" If every hair of your ringlets
Was a spangle of shining gold,
I never would ask to marry
A maiden so bad and bold.

" If you had as many fingers
As a hedgehog has pins to show,
And all with rings close crowded,
Whenever you came I'd go.

" And because you have been so cruel,
And served me such a turn,
I've a waggon I meant to give you,
And now that waggon I'll burn. "

He wept, and among the people
Who had stayed to hear him through,
I saw a Gentile standing,
And the Gentile was weeping too.

And I asked him, " Is it the story
Which causes the tears to rise?
Or the smoke of the burning waggon
That so affects your eyes? "

He answered, " I'm not affected
By the smoke nor by what he said;
But I sold him that waggon on credit,
And I know I shall never be paid. "

No more he wasn't, and never,
While water is in the sea,
Will he ever get a copper
From the heart-broken Rommany.