Wraggle Taggle Gypsies

There were three gypsies a-come to my door
And downstairs ran this-a lady, oh
One sang high and the other sang low
And the other sang Bonny Bonny Biscay, Oh

She pull-ed off her silken gown
And put on hose of leather, oh
The ragged, ragged rags about our door
She's off with the wraggle-taggle gypsies, oh!

It was late last night when the lord came home
Inquiring for his a-lady, oh
The servants said on every hand
"She's gone with the wraggle-taggle gypsies, oh"

"Oh, fetch for me my milk-white steed
And saddle for me my pony, oh
That I may ride, to seek my bride
Who's gone with the wraggle-taggle gypsies, oh"

Oh, he rode high, and he rode low
He rode on hills and copses too
Until he came to a cold open field
And there he espied his-a lady, oh

"What makes you leave your house and land?
What makes you leave your money, oh?
What makes you leave your new-wedded lord
To go with the wraggle-taggle gypsies, oh?"

"Oh, what care I for my house and land?
What care I for my money, oh?
What care I for my new-wedded lord?
I'm off with the wraggle-taggle gypsies, oh!"

"Last night I slept on a goose-feather bed
With the sheets turned down so bravely, oh
Tonight I'll sleep in a cold open field
Along with the wraggle-taggle gypsies, oh"