Classic Poem

A Gipsy and a Gentile,
A grandmother dark and wild,
Five children, and an uncle —
A half-blood poor and mild.
But the chief was bold and haughty,
And often declared to me,
That no man in all the country
Was so deep in their tongue as he.

The crone, a dark old Gipsy,
Seemed angry to hear me speak;
The half-blood sported a stove-pipe,
And I saw that the man was weak
But the chief looked proudly about him,
And every motion said
To the world, that all things worth knowing
Were hidden in his great head.

The half-blood was weaving a basket
Of paper, quietly,
Mere trifling, and as he wove it
He glanced at the Rommany:
At Mr Ayres the captain,
Who lifted his head to say:
" I'll tell you the deepest word now
You ever heard in your day.

" You may go from here to London,
Wherever our tongue is heard;
You may talk all England over,
And never hear sitch a word:
It's the very deeperest turn , Sir,
There is in all Rommany:
There's none but the Lord above us
As knows o' that word — and me. "

The grandmother looked angry,
And gave him a hurried wink,
As much as to say: " Don't tell it
Before these Gentiles, — think! "
But the half-breed gave me another,
To do the best I could,
But to certainly make an effort,
For the credit of English blood.

Said Mr Ayres the captain,
And his voice came far from below;
" Gurniaver's the word, my master,
And if you can explain it — do! "
The old woman's laugh was scornful,
The half-breed glanced around
Up into my eyes, inquiring,
Then down upon the ground.

" Gurniaver , " said Ayres the captain;
" Gurniaver's the word. It's true
You gents with your books knows something,
But this here is ahead of you. "
So we sat with our heads all bowing,
And never a sound was heard;
And we never uttered a whisper;
We were crushed by that awful word!

But Ayres, though great, was human,
So he said politely, " Sir,
This here is wot is the meanin' —
Gurniaver's a cow-cumber:
For a gurni's a cow in Gipsy,
And av , you know, is " come;"
And the two of 'em make cow-come-r,
As certain as I'm a Rom! "

Then we lifted our heads together
To the linguist — all in a row;
And the grandmother and the children,
And the half-blood and I, cried, " Oh! "
I never heard an utterance
So deep and so earnest. No.
I ween that the wood and water
In that dell are still murmuring, " Oh! "