Done it again: woke after two or three hours sleep with "The Whistling Gypsy Rover" running through my mind.  I like the little story.  Wasn't long before the record was changed for "The Wraggle Taggle Gypsies," a song whose melody I prefer but whose words I had to get out of bed and go online to check.

Three gypsies stood at the castle gate, they sang so high, they sang so low.
The lady sate in her chamber late, her heart it melted away like snow.

They sang so sweet, they sang so shrill, at last her tears began to flow
And she laid down her silken gown, her golden rings and all her show.

She plucked off her high-heeled shoes, a-made of Spanish leather-O
She would in the street in her bare, bare feet all out in the wind and weather-O.

Saddle to me my milk white steed and go and fetch me my pony-O
That I may ride and seek my bride who’s gone with the wraggle taggle gypsies-O!

He rode high and he rode low, he rode through woods and copses-O
Until he came to a open field and there he espied his a-lady-O.

“What makes you leave your house and land, your golden treasures to forgo?
What makes you leave your new wedded lord, to follow the wraggle taggle gypsies-O?”

“What care I for my house and land? What care I for my treasures-O?
What care I for my new wedded lord? I’m off with the wraggle taggle gypsies-O!”

“Last night you slept on a goose-feathered bed, with the sheet turned down so bravely-O.
Tonight you'll sleep in a cold open field along with the wraggle taggle gypsies-O!”

“What care I for a goose-feathered bed with the sheet turned down so bravely-O?
Tonight I’ll sleep in a cold open field along with the wraggle taggle gypsies-O!”