Classic Poem

F IRST G IPSY

Gipsies three, Gipsies three;
Roamers wide o'er field and fell;
Farers free, where'er we be;
Such are we, such are we;
Fortunes, also, we can tell.
Pretty Child, so sweet and mild,
Would you choose your lot to know,
Weal or woe, weal or woe,
Cross our hands, for we can show.
Janan, why a-loitering stand?
Come and read the Infant's hand.

S ECOND G IPSY .

Thou art, thou art, as I can see,
The Equal of the Deity,
His well-beloved Progeny,
And born to be adored.
Yea: I can see that thou art he,
Co-partner of the Deity;
Fore-born for me, fore-born for me,
Ere chaos felt the Word.
For love it was that gave thee birth;
Boundless love for all on earth,
With Virgin-Mother — Father, none;
This, all this, in thy palm is shown.

F IRST G IPSY .

Yet still a secret lags behind,
Which Janan hath not cared to tell:
Yet still a secret lags behind,
Which soon shall work its marvel well.
Messiah dear, put here, put here
A silver piece, to make us cheer;
Then — Janan tells it, Darling dear.

S ECOND G IPSY .

Yet 'mid this bliss, yet 'mid this bliss,
Something of very hard there is,
For our behoof, to do.
Yea, yea, I wis, 'mid all this bliss,
Something of very hard there is,
To work our safety through.
That cross, Salvation's cross, I see;
And if of thy sad martyrie
My tongue the cause may dare to touch,
It is, that thou hast loved too much.

F IRST G IPSY .

But still, at the end of the vital line,
A secret untold remains to divine:
Give again, sweet Babe, thy palm to spell
And a charming secret we can tell:
But first, the tester we must hold;
Without it nothing can be told.
S ECOND G IPSY .

Thou art God and Mortal too;
And as such shalt live — not much —
On this earth, our human birth
Thou art God and Mortal too;
And being so, full soon shalt go
From thy sojourn here below.
Nought a nature, thus divine,
From eternity can sever;
Endless life a gift of thine,
And thine essence lives for ever.

F IRST G IPSY

But dost thou not wish, as fit it is,
We should speak a word to thy Mother dear;
And in our homely gipsy guise,
Make our compliment to her?
Already, fair Lady, we understand
That a mystery lurks in that beautiful hand.
Do thou, Janan, thou,
Who so well knowest how,
Say a somewhat to pleasure the Lady's ear.

S ECOND G IPSY .

Lady, thou art of royal blood;
Thy house in glory long hath stood;
The world hath loftier none.
Thou art, in sooth, of royal blood,
Thy house in glory long hath stood;
All this to me is known.
Thy Lord — thy Son: thy God — his Father:
What would Blessed Woman rather?
Sainted Daughter of thy Lord;
Happy Mother of thy God.

F IRST G IPSY .

But thou, old Man, who by the manger
Quietly dost take thy stand,
Let us see, respected stranger,
Let us see and read thy hand.
And think'st thou then, that plotting sly,
We shall steal yon ass that is feeding by?
Old Man, old Man, far better pelf
Would be the Blessed Babe himself.
But first, kind Master, hand your groat,
And let us quench a thirsty throat.

S ECOND G IPSY .

I see by that hand, I see full sure,
That thou art great and just and pure;
By that hand dost thou stand full clearly proved
Great and pure and well-beloved.
Husband, wisely mastering sense
With a saint-like abstinence,
Thou to Providence didst bow;
And art thou not rewarded now?

F IRST G IPSY .

But now, sweet Babe, full well we wot
That thou art born with little store;
Thy lot, a naked, lowly lot;
Therefore of pence we talk no more.
And didst thou fear, my Darling dear,
To see the scare-crow gipsy near?
Yet, wherefore start? For, God thou art:
Then, hear our prayer, before we part.

C HORUS OF THE T HREE G IPSIES .

If with too much liberty,
We have dared thine ear importune;
If with too much liberty,
We have dared to read thy fortune;
Humbly we pray to thee,
Build thou for us a destiny;
And be it one, Immortal Son,
Blessing us eternally.