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Updated: May 25, 2025
On to where the visions are! Aye-yee aye-yah! * Busne Gipsy word Gentile, or non-gipsy. Russia, Rumania, Bulgaria, Bohemia, Persia, Armenia were all one hunting-ground to the troupe we rode with. Even the children seemed to have a smattering of most of the tongues men speak in those intriguing lands.
I know a pool of purple rimmed with white Where wild-fowl, warming for the morning flight, Wait clustering and crying on the brink. And I know hillsides where the partridge breeds. Aye-yee! Aye-yee, aye-yah! Aye-yee I see new distances beyond a blue horizon flung. I laugh, because the people under roofs believe That last year's ways are this! No roads are old! New grass has grown!
CHORUS Oh, daughter Eve, dear daughter Eve, The tribulations go and come, But no adventure's ever tame With you to make surprises hum! Aye-yee I see a cloud afloat in air af amethyst I know its racing shadow falls on banks of gold Where rain-rejoicing gravel warms the feeding roots And smells more wonderful than wine.
Aye-yee aye-yah! Aye-yee I see new rushes crowding upwards in the mere Where, gold and white, the wild duck preens himself Safe hidden till the sun-drawn, lingering mists melt. I know the secret den where bruin dwelt. I see him now sun-basking on a shelf Of windy rock. He looks down on the deer, Who flit like flowing light from rock to tree And stand with ears alert before they drink.
I know the shoots of myrtle and of asphodel now stir the mould Where wee cool noses sniff the early mist. Aye-yee the sparkle of the little springs I see That tinkle as they hunt the thirsty rill. I know the cobwebs glitter with the jeweled dew. I see a fleck of brown it was a skylark flew To scatter bursting music, and the world is still To listen. Ah, my heart is bursting too Aye-yee!
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