You take there a brooomstick and quick as a flash, 
It's transformed to a charger, all fire and dash!
Or a lovely white pony with long, silky mane,
Side saddle, gilt sturrips, and blue-ribbon rein! 

The old rocking chair, without arms or a back
Can be changed to a chariot, engine, or hack.
The plain wooden floor in five minutes can be
A race-course, a circus, a desert, a sea!

And the closet, a castle where big giants wait
To capture the first one who comes to their gate!
In a wink it's a cave where bold robbers hide,
Or a den where fierce dragons and ogres abide.

You've only to wish it, when lo! at your feet
It's a fine desert island, rock-bound and complete!
You've only to speak--in an instant you can
Be Robinson Crusoe, or Friday, his man!

Whatever you wish for, it's waiting for you;
Whatever you dream of, that dream will come true!
You can be what you will, from a king to a clown,
If once you gain entrance to Make-Believe Town.