Do not trust him, gentle lady, though his voice be low and sweet
Heed not him who kneels before you, gently pleading at thy feet
Now thy life is in its morning; cloud not this thy happy lot
Listen to the gypsy's warning, gentle lady, trust him not

Lady, once there lived a maiden, young and pure and like thee fair
But he wooed and wooed and won her, filled her gentle heart with care
Then he heeded not her weeping, nor cared he her life to save
Soon she perished, now she's sleeping in the cold and silent grave

Do not turn so coldly from me, I would only guard thy youth
From his stern and withering power, I would only tell the truth
I would shield thee from all danger, save thee from tempter's snare
Lady shun the dark-eyed stranger, I have warned thee, now beware

Keep thy gold, I do not wish it. Lady, I have prayed for this
For the hour that I might foil him, rob him of expected bliss
Oh, I see thou art not bewildered by my looks so cold and wild
Lady, in the green grave yonder lies the gypsy's only child