The Dancing Bear

Slowly he turns himself round and round,

Lifting his paws with care,

Twisting his head in a sort of bow

To the people watching there.

His keeper, grinding a wheezy tune,

Jerks at the iron chain,

And the dusty, patient bear goes through

His solemn tricks again.

Only his eyes are still and fixed

In a wide, bewildered stare,

More like a child's lost in woods at night

Than the eyes of a big brown bear.