The Wraggle Taggle Gypsies O — From Silk Gowns to Leather Hose

The Wraggle Taggle Gypsies O — From Silk Gowns to Leather Hose

“The Wraggle Taggle Gypsies O” is one of those folk songs that refuses to die. It has moved through centuries, accents, and counties, yet its story is instantly recognisable even today: a noblewoman, smothered by wealth, hears the wild song of wandering men at her door — and leaves everything behind to follow them. In a world obsessed with safety, status, and comfort, this little ballad quietly raises a deeper question: who is truly free?

In the song, we see her dressed in silk gowns, surrounded by feather beds and privilege. That is the world she is supposed to love. But she throws the entire social structure into chaos by simply changing clothes — stripping off the silk, and choosing leather hose like the gypsies themselves. One garment symbolised property and class. The other symbolised independence, risk, and the open road.

People often interpret the song as a romantic fantasy, but it is something sharper: she does not leave for another man — she leaves for a different life. The gypsies represent a culture that cannot be owned, taxed, or controlled. Her lord, who comes home demanding answers, cannot understand why wealth is not enough. But freedom was always the point.

Even in 2025, the song speaks with the same sting. Plenty of people still live in golden cages — good jobs, good houses, plenty of “comfort” — yet feel like prisoners of routine. The Wraggle Taggle Gypsies isn’t just a folk memory. It’s a reminder that the wild road offers something money cannot buy.

So from silk gowns to leather hose — the lady wasn’t running away from her husband.
She was running towards herself.





LYRICS

There were three gypsies a come to my door,
And downstairs ran this lady, O!
One sang high and another sang low,
And the other sang bonny, bonny, Biscay, O!

Then she pulled off her silk finished gown
And put on hose of leather, O!
The ragged, ragged, rags about our door,
She's gone with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

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

O saddle to me my milk-white steed,
Go and fetch me my pony, O!
That I may ride and seek my bride,
Who is gone with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

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

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

What care I for my house and my land?
What care I for my money, 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-feather bed,
With the sheet turned down so bravely, O!
And to-night you'll sleep in a cold open field,
Along with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

What care I for a goose-feather bed?
With the sheet turned down so bravely, O!
For to-night I shall sleep in a cold open field,
Along with the wraggle taggle gypsies, O!

And they danced a reel by the pale moonlight,
With the pipes and the tambour proudly, O!
And the lady laughed with the wild gypsy band,
As they played the tune so gaily, O!

O' she left her house and her soft feather bed,
And the silks that rustled bravely, O!
For a brand new life on the wandering road,
Away with the wraggle-taggle gypsies, O!



Location: Ireland

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