Harlequin is quiet, gliding down the lane,
        Harlequin goes softly, sliding through the rain,
                Harlequin is silent,
                Harlequin is bold,
        And Harlequin never tells what Harlequin is told.

        He tweaks the devil’s whiskers,
        Flirts with the ladies faire
        But when you go to seek him,
        He’s hardly ever there.

        Harlequin wears homespun,
        With patches colored gay,
        Cap with bells and tassles,
        Boots of leather gray.

        He haunts m’lady’s boudoir,
        He taps upon the sash,
        And when All Hallow’s Eve comes round,
        He really has a bash.

        Harlequin went dancing,
        Down at the Harvest Fair,
        And there he met sweet Columbine
        With flowers in her hair.

        Her cheeks were red as roses,
        Her hair was soft, soft brown,
        She was shod in velvet slippers
        And a long green gown.

        She danced so light and graceful,
        She floated like a dove,
        And Harlequin was smitten
        With what mortals title love.

        The golden moon is glowing,
        Frost gives the air a chill,
        As Harlequin and Columbine are
        Dancing on the hill.

        Harlequin danced lightly
        As he’d never danced before,
        He danced himself enchanted
        And then he danced some more.

        At last the dance was over,
        The musicians gone away
        While silence filled the meadows
        And the darkness turned to gray.

        But dawn did not find Harlequin
        Alone with Columbine …
        For in the shadows, Pirotte
        Was watching all the time.

        Harlequin loves Columbine
        And Columbine Pirotte,
        But Harlequin has magic
        That never failed him yet.

        Thus Harlequin faced Pirotte
        And each their rapiers drew,
        Facing across a meadow
        Silvered with morning’s dew.

        And Harlequin and Pirotte
        Fought an awful fight,
        Clashing with silver rapiers
        In the dawning light.

        Thrust and point and counterpoint;
        The blades are flashing fast
        Til Harlequin is victor
        And Pirotte has lost at last.

        Pirotte is sorely wounded,
        Columbine could save him still
        But Harlequin loves Columbine
        And he controls her will.

        Yes, Harlequin is sneaky
        And Harlequin is sly
        But Harlequin has compassion
        Though no-one dares ask why.

        So Columbine has Pirotte
        And Harlequin is gone
        Setting the leaves a-trimble,
        Singing a sad sweet song.

        Harlequin the joker,
        Playing the buffoon,
        Knows broken hearts are mended
        Beneath the autumn moon.

        By day, the leaves are full of color,
        The sun is shining bright
        And there’ll be another Columbine
        To dance with him tonight.

        Moving like a breeze, gliding down the lane,
        Harlequin is whistling a melodic refrain,
                Harlequin is silent,
                Harlequin is bold
        And Harlequin never tells what Harlequin is told.

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