Over our heads the branches made A canopy of woven shade. The birds about this beechen tent Like deft attendants came and went. A shy wood-robin, fluting low, Furnished the music for the show. The cricket and the grasshopper A portion of the audience were. Thither did Fancy leap to fling Light summersaults around the ring. Wit, the sly jester of the Town, And rustic Humor played the clown; Reason was ringmaster, and waved His whip when these his anger braved; Wishes were horses that each rode Unto his heart’s desire’s abode. There Laughter and Delight and Glee Performed their parts that all might see, Till a sweet wind across the clover Whispered, “At last, the show is over,” And the broad shadow of a cloud Moved from us like a moving crowd.
The Mountebanks
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