By Lalia Mitchell When you bring your pledge of a lasting love, A love that is fond and free, Oh, whisper not of a castle high, Or a yacht that sails the sea. I want no tale of a palace fair That towers over loch and lea; But a table set in the open air And a Romany tent for me. When you whisper words that should please me well, When you woo me, Sweetheart mine, Oh, paint no picture of wealth and power, Of silks and of jewels fine. And breathe no word of the jostling throng, For my heart would fain be free; I go where the woodland paths are long, And a Romany tent for me. Will you meet my wish, will you walk my way? Will you chart the flower-strewn lea? Will you curb your pride, will you keep the faith, The faith of my company? I will bear no yoke, I will wear no brand, But my heart shall be true to thee, So give me the world for a home, and love In a Romany tent for me. THE PUBLISHED TEN TIMES A YEAR Publication Office: Subscription, $1.00 per Year. Single Copies, 10c TO SUBSCRIBERS The date stamped on the wrapper is the date on which your subscription expires; it is, also, an acknowledgment that a subscription, or a renewal of the same, has been received. Please renew on receipt of the colored blank enclosed for this purpose. In sending notice to renew a subscription or change an address, please give the old address as well as the new. In referring to an original entry, we must know the name as it was formerly given, together with the Post-office, County, State, Post-office Box, or Street Number. Entered at Boston Post-office as second-class matter |