________________________________________________
Title: The Mimic Harlequin
Author: Charles Lamb [
More Titles by Lamb]
"I'll _make believe_, and fancy something strange:
I will suppose I have the power to change
And make all things unlike to what they were,
To jump through windows and fly through the air,
And quite confound all places and all times,
Like Harlequins we see in Pantomimes.
These thread-papers my wooden sword must be,
Nothing more like one I at present see.
And now all round this drawing-room I'll range
And every thing I look at I will change.
Here's Mopsa, our old cat, shall be a bird;
To a Poll Parrot she is now transferr'd.
Here's Mamma's work-bag, now I will engage
To whisk this little bag into a cage;
And now, my pretty Parrot, get you in it,
Another change I'll shew you in a minute."
"O fie, you naughty child, what have you done?
There never was so mischievous a son.
You've put the cat among my work, and torn
A fine lac'd cap that I but once have worn."
[The end]
Charles Lamb's poem: Mimic Harlequin
________________________________________________
GO TO TOP OF SCREEN
