Harlequin

Gleaming like a solar spectrum,

The slender Harlequin

Accosts the sad old servant

And rumples her great cape.

To quiet her quick temper

He makes a sequin shine.

Gleaming like a solar spectrum,

The slender Harlequin.

Now the sad old woman, pocketing her fee,

Brings Columbine to the roguish knave.

He sings out gleefully,

Gleaming like a solar spectrum.