Do you want to peep into Bedlam Town? <br />Then come with me, when the day swings down, <br />Into the cradle, whose rockers rim, <br />Some people call the horizon dim. <br /> <br /> <br />All the mischief of all the fates <br />Seems to center in four little pates, <br />Just one hour before we say, <br />'It is time for bed now, stop your play.' <br /> <br /> <br />O, the racket and noise, and roar <br />As they prance like a caravan over the floor, <br />With never a thought of the head that aches, <br />And never a heed to the 'mercy sakes.' <br />And 'Pity, save us,' and 'Oh! dear, dear,' <br />Which all but the culprits plainly hear. <br /> <br /> <br />A dog, a parrot, a guinea hen, <br />Warriors, elephants, Indian men, <br />A salvation army, a grizzly bear, <br />Are all at once in the nursery there. <br /> <br /> <br />And when the clock in the hall strikes seven <br />It sounds to us like a voice from heaven; <br />And each of the elves in a warm nightgown, <br />March away out of Bedlam Town.<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bedlam-town/
