Here’s the Pyramid-car, with its splendor and flash,
And the Goddess on high, in a hot-scarlet sash
And a pen-wiper skirt!—O the rarest of sights
Is this “Queen of the Air” in cerulean tights!
Then the far-away clash of the cymbals, and then
The swoon of the tune ere it wakens again
With the capering tones of the gallant cornet
That go dancing away in a mad minuet.
The Circus!—The Circus!—The throb of the drums,
And the blare of the horns, as the Band-wagon comes;