Gypsy Song

You are the safe and firelit room, 
I am the open wold; 
You are the city, and this your doom- 
Never to feel the outer cold, 
Never to fear the inner dark: 
Never to strain the ears, and hark 
For any foot but the foot of Time; 
Never to know a loss worth gain 
Or soul that's worth the birthing-pain; 
Never to find hill worth the climb 
Or joy that may be worth the tear — 
My Dear! 

You are shut in from snow and sleet, 
I am out in the wind; 
My feet are strange to the trodden street 
As you are strange to the winds that beat. 
The mists that hover and blind. 
I cannot stay, you cannot bind — 
My hands unclasp and let you go, 
As if you were no more than snow 
That slips away from me in rain. 
I love you, yet our souls are twain. 
For I am knowledge, you are fear. 
My Dear.