Through the Village

Through the village, all the way,
A gipsy band for me doth play;
A flask of wine I wave in glee,
I dance in maddest revelry.

"O gipsy, play thy saddest airs,
That I may weep away my cares;
But when her window we do reach,
Play joyous tunes, I thee beseech.

"The maid that lives there is my star,
The star that shot from me afar;
She left me, strives from me to hide,
And blooms at other lovers' side.

"This is her window. Gipsy play
A tune which is surpassing gay!
Let not the false maid hear or see
That I can feel her falsity!"