Isis Town and Country - - Opinion - By NANCE BUR­NETT

Oh, my heart is filled with shame

But I can­not take the blame

For Gypsy blood that flows like a sea­soned wine,

And the mem­o­ries will bring Sub­tle melodies that sing For­ever in this wan­ton heart of mine. Yes, they call me to go Where the bush­land breezes blow:

Adventure calls and yet I sit and pine.

Oh, the road that winds ahead Softly calls and I am led. It calls and cries and yearns to be ex­plored,

And the boat that leaves the quay Never fails to call me To coun­tries far that I could ill af­ford,

Or a steam train pass­ing through

Shrilly shrieks as though it knew

This heart of mine was clam­ber­ing aboard.

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