Louis Untermeyer, ed. (1885–1977). Modern British Poetry. 1920.
Ralph Hodgson18711962Time, You Old Gipsy Man
T
Will you not stay,
Put up your caravan
Just for one day?
Will you be my guest,
Bells for your jennet
Of silver the best,
Goldsmiths shall beat you
A great golden ring,
Peacocks shall bow to you,
Little boys sing,
Oh, and sweet girls will
Festoon you with may.
Time, you old gipsy,
Why hasten away?
Last night in Rome,
Morning, and in the crush
Under Paul’s dome;
Under Paul’s dial
You tighten your rein—
Only a moment,
And off once again;
Off to some city
Now blind in the womb,
Off to another
Ere that’s in the tomb.
Will you not stay,
Put up your caravan
Just for one day?