To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled, And out of the houses the rats came tumbling. Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, Brown rats, 'black rats, gray rats, tawny rats, Grave old plodders, gay young friskers, Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, Curling tails and pricking whiskers, Families by tens and dozens, Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives— Followed the piper for their lives. From street to street he piped, advancing, And step for step they followed, dancing, Until they came to the River Weser, Wherein all plunged and perished Save one, who, stout as Julius Cæsar, Swam across, and lived to carry (As he the manuscript he cherished) To Rat-land home his commentary; Which was-"At the first shrill notes of the pipe, I heard a sound as of scraping tripe; And a moving away of pickle-tub boards, (Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery Is breathed) called out, 'O rats, rejoice! The world is grown to one vast drysaltery! So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon, Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!' All ready staved, like a great sun shone Consult with carpenters and builders, And leave in our town not even a trace Of the rats!" when suddenly up the face Of the piper perked in the market-place, With a "First, if you please, my thousand guilders!" A thousand guilders! The mayor looked blue; So did the corporation too. To pay this sum to a wandering fellow With a gipsy coat of red and yellow! "Besides," quoth the mayor, with a knowing wink, Our business was done at the river's brink; We saw with our eyes the vermin sink, And what's dead can't come to life, I think: So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink From the duty of giving you something to drink, And a matter of money to put in your poke; But as for the guilders, what we spoke Of them, as you very well know, was in joke. Besides, our losses have made us thrifty;A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!" Just as methought it said, 'Come, bore You threaten us, fellow! Do your worst; There was a rustling that seemed like a | For he led us, he said, to a joyous land, bustling Joining the town and just at hand, Of merry crowds justling at pitching and Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew, hustling; And flowers put forth a fairer hue, Small feet were pattering,-wooden shoes And everything was strange and new; clattering, Little hands clapping,—and little tongues chattering, The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here, And their dogs outran our fallow deer; And like fowls in a farmyard, when barley And honey-bees had lost their stings, is scattering, Out came the children running! All the little boys and girls, With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls, And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls, Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after The wonderful music, with shouting and laughter. The mayor was dumb, and the council stood As if they were changed into blocks of wood, Unable to move a step, or cry To the children merrily skipping by,— However, he turned from south to west, And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed, And after him the children pressed; A wondrous portal opened wide, And when all were in to the very last, I can't forget that I'm bereft And horses were born with eagles' wings. My lame foot would be speedily cured, To go now limping as before, Alas, alas for Hamelin! There came into many a burgher's pate A text which says that heaven's gate Opes to the rich at as easy rate As the needle's eye takes a camel in! The mayor sent east, west, north, and south, To offer the piper by word of mouth, Wherever it was men's lot to find him, Silver and gold to his heart's content, If he'd only return the way he went, And bring the children behind him. But soon they saw 'twas a lost endeavour, For piper and dancers were gone for ever. And the better in memory to fix The place of the children's last retreat, They called it the Pied Piper's Street; Where any one playing on pipe or tabor Was sure for the future to lose his labour; Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern To shock with mirth a street so solemn : But opposite the place of the cavern They wrote the story on a column, Long ago, in a mighty band, THE SULIOTE MOTHER. SHE stood upon the loftiest peak, Till even the upper air was stirred, As cliffs and hollows rang. "Hark! they bring music, my joyous child! What saith the trumpet to Suli's wild? "Dost thou see them, boy? through the Doth it light thine eye with so quick a fire, dusky pines, As if at a glimpse of thine armèd sire? Dost thou see where the foemen's armour-Still!-be thou still!-there are brave shines? Hast thou caught the gleam of the con queror's crest? My babe! that I cradled on my breast! Wouldst thou spring from thy mother's arms with joy?—— That sight hath cost thee a father, boy!" For in the rocky strait beneath They had heaped high the piles of death, men low Thou wouldst not smile couldst thou see him now!" But nearer came the clash of steel, And louder swelled the horn; And further yet the tambour's peal, Through the dark pass was borne, "Hear'st thou the sounds of their savage mirth? Boy, thou wert free when I gave thee birth! 'They have crossed the torrent, and on Free, and how cherished! my warrior's A STORM. "Tis pleasant, by the cheerful hearth, to | Avail not; to look round and only see hear Of tempests, and the dangers of the deep, The mountain wave incumbent with its weight Of bursting waters o'er the reeling bark,- And thinks upon the suffering mariner. |