Come back, little gipsy, to love and to me!

There's naught in the town and its profitless pleasures,
No comfort in labor, no gladness in play;
The beat of my bosom but wearily measures
The heavy-winged hours that you are away.

A world that was golden is barren and lonely,
The skies that were azure are leaden and black;
You are Faith, you are Hope, you are Honor; you only
Are Life and its meaning! My dear one, come back!

The strength I rejoiced in is futile and broken.
Come back to the mountains and fields that we knew!
Come back! Though the depth of the soul be unspoken,
My earth and my heaven hold nothing but you.

The wind of our wilderness, failing and dying,
The billow that tosses the bubble and wrack,
The Brant in their multitude summer ward flying
Shall bring you the message, "My dear one, come back!"

Come back from the coasts where the dolphin are leaping;
Come back through the spray of a jubilant sea;
Come back with a heart that was left in your keeping;
Come back, little gipsy, to love and to me!