THE INDIAN GYPSY

by: Sarojini Naidu (1879-1949)

      N tattered robes that hoard a glittering trace
      Of bygone colours, broidered to the knee,
      Behold her, daughter of a wandering race,
      Tameless, with the bold falcon's agile grace,
      And the lithe tiger's sinuous majesty.
       
      With frugal skill her simple wants she tends,
      She folds her tawny heifers and her sheep
      On lonely meadows when the daylight ends,
      Ere the quick night upon her flock descends
      Like a black panther from the caves of sleep.
       
      Time's river winds in foaming centuries
      Its changing, swift, irrevocable course
      To far off and incalculable seas;
      She is twin-born with primal mysteries,
      And drinks of life at Time's forgotten source.

"The Indian Gypsy" is reprinted from The Golden Threshold. Sarojini Naidu. New York: John Lane Company, 1916.

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