I watched the clowns at the circus,
And I noted their comic art,
And I mused the while how the daily smile
Might cover a breaking heart,

Perhaps, I thought (I was conscious
The thing had been thought before)
They are mournful folk who do not joke
When the nightly task is o'er.

And I thought (I'm a pensive person;
And this thought was somewhat new)
They have no fun when their work is done—
And they're sad when they're working, too.