Brownings Shorter Poems | Page 9

at pitching and hustling;
Small feet were
pattering, wooden shoes clattering, 200 Little hands clapping, and little
tongues chattering,
And, like fowls in a farm-yard, when barley 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.
XIII
The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood
As if they were changed
into blocks of wood.
Unable to move a step, or cry 210 To the
children merrily skipping by,
--Could only follow with the eye
That
joyous crowd at the piper's back.
But how the Mayor was on the rack,

And the wretched Council's bosom beat,
As the Piper turned from
the High Street
To where the Weser rolled its waters,
Right in the
way of their sons and daughters!
However, he turned from South to
West,
And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed, 220 And after him

the children pressed:
Great was the joy in every breast.
"He never
can cross that mighty top!
He's forced to let the piping drop,
And
we shall see our children stop."
When lo, as they reached the
mountain-side,
A wondrous portal opened wide,
As if a cavern
were suddenly hollowed;
And the Piper advanced, and the children
followed,
And when all were in, to the very last, 230 The door in the
mountain-side shut fast.
Did I say all? No! One was lame,
And
could not dance the whole of the way;
And in after years, if you
would blame
His sadness, he was used to say,--
"It's dull in our
town since my playmates left!
I can't forget that I'm bereft
Of all the
pleasant sights they see,
Which the Piper also promised me.
For he
led us, he said, to a joyous land. 240 Joining the town, and just at hand,

Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew,
And flowers put forth a
fairer hue,
And everything was strange and new:
The sparrows were
brighter than peacocks here,
And their dogs outran our fallow deer.

And honey-bees had lost their stings,
And horses were born with
eagles' wings;
And just as I became assured,
My lame foot would
be speedily cured, 250 The music stopped and I stood still,
And
found myself outside the hill,
Left alone against my will,
To go
now limping as before.
And never hear of that country more!"
XIV
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 a rate

As the needle's eye takes a camel in! 260 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 when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor,
And Piper and dancers
were gone forever,
They made a decree that lawyers never
Should
think their records dated duly 270 If, after the day of the month and
year,
These words did not as well appear,
"And so long after what
happened here
On the twenty-second of July,
Thirteen hundred and

seventy-six;"
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. 280 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,
And on the great church window painted

The same, to make the world acquainted
How their children were
stolen away.
And there it stands to this very day.
And I must not
omit to say
That in Transylvania there's a tribe 290 Of alien people
who ascribe
The outlandish ways and dress
On which their
neighbours lay such stress,
To their fathers and mothers having risen

Out of some subterraneous prison
Into which they were trepanned

Long time ago in a mighty band
Out of Hamelin town in
Brunswick land,
But how or why, they don't understand.
XV
So, Willy, let me and you be wipers 300 Of scores out with all
men--especially pipers!
And, whether they pipe us free from rats or
from mice,
If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise!

TRAY
Sing me a hero! Quench my thirst
Of soul, ye bards!
Quoth Bard the first:
"Sir Olaf,° the good knight, did don
°3


His helm, and eke his habergeon ..."
Sir Olaf and his bard----!
"That sin-scathed brow"° (quoth Bard the second), °6 "That eye wide
ope as tho' Fate beckoned
My hero to some steep, beneath
Which

precipice smiled tempting Death ..."
You too without your host have
reckoned! 10
"A beggar-child" (let's hear this third!)
"Sat on a quay's