| TIME, you old gipsy man, | |
| Will you not stay, | |
| Put up your caravan | |
| Just for one day? | |
| |
| All things I'll give you | 5 |
| Will you be my guest, | |
| Bells for your jennet | |
| Of silver the best, | |
| Goldsmiths shall beat you | |
| A great golden ring, | 10 |
| Peacocks shall bow to you, | |
| Little boys sing, | |
| Oh, and sweet girls will | |
| Festoon you with may. | |
| Time, you old gipsy, | 15 |
| Why hasten away? | |
| |
| Last week in Babylon, | |
| Last night in Rome, | |
| Morning, and in the crush | |
| Under Paul's dome; | 20 |
| Under Paul's dial | |
| You tighten your rein— | |
| Only a moment, | |
| And off once again; | |
| Off to some city | 25 |
| Now blind in the womb, | |
| Off to another | |
| Ere that's in the tomb. | |
| |
| Time, you old gipsy man, | |
| Will you not stay, | 30 |
| Put up your caravan | |
| Just for one day? | |
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