PIERROT GOES CHARLOTTE BECKER
Reading edition
in Everybody’s Magazine
Permission to reproduce in this book
UP among the chimneys tall Lay the garret of Pierrot. Here came trooping to his call Fancies no one else might know; Here he bade the spiders spin Webs to hide his treasure in. Here he heard the night wind croon Slumber-songs for sleepyheads; Here he spied the spendthrift moon Strew her silver on the leads; Here he wove a coronet Of quaint lyrics for Pierrette. But the bugles blew him down To the fields with war beset; Marched him past the quiet town, Past the window of Pierrette; Comrade now of sword and lance, Pierrot gave his dreams to France.