By lagoons and reedy places, Where the little river races, By the lips of dreaming pools Where the soothing water cools Many a verdant slope and hollow, Here my blithesome way I follow. Anywhere that waters glisten Pause a little while and listen. You will hear my plaintive note O’er the placid mirror float— Tho’ nought know I of plaint or fret: “Pierrot! Pierrette! Pierrot! Pierrette!” Pierrot am I, light-hearted fellow, Be the day morose or mellow; And Pierrette, my dainty wife, Adopts a like gay view of life; We dance; we dance amid the sedges, Dance by duplicated edges Of the peaceful little ponds; Now I bow, and she responds; And then we dance together there, Rise aloft, and dance on air; Rising, falling, calling yet: “Pierrot! Pierrette! Pierrot! Pierrette!” Thistledown was ne’er so light As our dainty, dancing flight; Gay pied pipers, trim and neat, Joy is in our wings, our feet; Grace is in our every pose . . . We dance, we dance till, at day’s close, When the pool’s dark mirrors limn Twilit glory at the brim— Trees and opalescent sky— We dance away; and as we fly Our call comes faint and fainter yet: “Pierrot! Pierrette! . . . Pierrot! . . . ”