under the blue sky where wagons once did roam
where dark barefooted children made the heathlands their true home
where fires once were lit at night and where the organ sang
within the birch and briars leaves where all men were as one
upon the heathered downs of poole and bournes fair valley dale
the wagons rolled and gypsy sang to greet the morning sun
where warblers chirped and rabbits ran where frosts were sharp and bare
with candle sticks and lamps that lit the night with fervant glow
within the glade where poets made their rhymes of gypsy joes
the spires were tall and brickyards all were set to paint the scene
whilst zunners ran and gypsy clan were gathered on the down
whilst ponies grazed and sweethearts made the sweetest eiderdowns
where talk was free and company was scattered all around