The Gipsy Baron

Boatmen's Chorus
An Orphan from my early days
My second sight has told me so
Exactly four-and-twenty years ago
A suitor seeks a bride
The Moth draws near the flame
Bridal Cake
None braver, none so true
Arsena, Arsena
The morning breaks
Beside the rim of yonder clearing
Wake, wake, for high is the sun
Exit for Chorus
Woh tied the knot?
To trample on Evil of ev'ry sort
Recruiting Song "Comrade, dring a glass of wine"
Away
Oh, rejoice!
I have no luck at all in love
Now we're going home again
March, march, marching along
Wedding-bells! Hurrah!