My mother saw a dancing bear
schoolyard, a day in June.
The keeper stood with chain and bar
And whistle-pipe, and played a tune.
And bruin lifted up its head
And lifted up its dusty
And all the children laughed to see
It caper in the
They watched as for the Queen it died.
They watched it
march. They watched it halt.
They heard the keeper as he cried,
`Now, roly-poly! Somersault!'
And then, my mother said, there came
keeper with a begging-cup,
The bear with burning coat of fur,
Shaming the laughter to a stop.
They paid a penny for the dance,
But what they saw was
not the show;
Only, in bruin's aching eyes,
forests, and the snow.