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Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhe ish.
To pay this sum to a wandering fellow
With a gipsy coat of red and yellow!

Beside,' 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;
Beside, our losses have made us thrifty;
A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty !'

Σ.

The piper's face fell, and he cried:
No trifling! I can't wait; beside,
I've promised to visit by dinner-time
Bagdad, and accepted the prime

Of the head-cook's pottage, all he's rich in,
For having left, in the Caliph's kitchen,
Of a nest of scorpions no survivor-
With him I proved no bargain-driver;
With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver!
And folks who put me in a passion
May find me pipe to another fashion.'

ΧΙ.

'How?' cried the Mayor, 'd'ye think I'll brook Being worse treated than a cook?

Insulted by a lazy ribald

With idle pipe and vesture piebald?

You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst;

Blow your pipe there till you burst!'

XII.

Once more he stept into the street;

And to his lips again

Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane.
And ere he blew three notes (such sweet
Soft notes as yet musicians cunning

Never gave the enraptured air),

There was a rustling, that seemed like a bustling
Of merry crowds justling, at pitching and hustling,
Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering,
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 sten. or cry

To the children merrily skipping by
And 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 bosoms 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,
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's side,
A wondrous portal opened wide,

As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed;

And the Piper advanced and the children followed,

And when all were in to the very last,

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,
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 eagle's wings;

And just as I became assured

My lame foot would be speedily cured,

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 I'

Alas, alas for Hamelin!

XIV.

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 month.

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 all behind him.
But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavour,
And Piper and dancers were gone for ever,
They made a decree that lawyers never

Should think their records dated duly, 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 ou pipe or tabor,
Was sure for the future to lose his labour.
Nor suffered they hostlery or tav rn

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
Of alien people that 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 you and me be wipers

Of scores out with all meu-especially pipers.

And, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice, If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise.

A Parting Scene (1526 A. D.).

PARACELSUS and FESTUS.

PAR. And you saw Luther?

FEST. Tis a wondrous soul!

PAR. True: the so-heavy chain which galled mankind Is shattered, and the noblest of us all

Must bow to the deliverer-nay the worker

Of our own project-we who long before

Had burst our trammels, but forgot the crowd

We would have taught, still groaned beneath the load:
This he has done and nobly." Speed that may!
Whatever be my chance or my mischance,
What benefits mankind must glad me too:
And men seem made, though not as I believed,
For something better than the times display:
Witness these gangs of peasants your new lights
From Suabia have possessed, whom Münzer leads,
And whom the Duke, te Landgrave, and the Elector
Will calm in blood! Well, well-'tis not my world!
FEST. Hark!

PAR. 'Tis the melancholy wind astir

Within the trees; the embers too are gray;

Morn must be near.

FEST. Best ope the casement. See.

The night, late strewn with clouds and flying stars,
Is blank and motionless: how peaceful sleep

The tree-tops all together! like an asp

The wind slips whispering from bough to bough.

[blocks in formation]

And why this world, this common world, to be
A make-shift, a more foil, how lair soever,

To some fine life to come?

Man must be fed

With angels' food, forsooth; and some few traces
Of a diviner nature which look out

Through his corporeal baseness, warrant him
In a supreme contempt for all provision

For his inferior tastes-some straggling marks
Which constitute his essence, just as truly
As here and there a gem would constitute
The rock, their barren bed, a diamond.
But were it so-were man all mind-he gains
A station little enviable. From God
Down to the lowest spirit ministr..nt,
Intelligence exists which casts our mind
Into immeasurable shade. No. no:

Love, hope, fear, faith-these make humanity,

These are its sign, and note, and character;

And these I have lost !-goue, shut from me for ever,
Like a dead friend, safe from unkindness more!-

See morn at length. The heavy darkness seems

Diluted; gray and clear without the stars;

The shrubs bestir and rouse themselves, as if

Some snake, that weighed them down all night, let go
His hold; and from the east, fuller and fuller,
Day, like a mighty river, is flowing in;

But clouded, wintry, desolate and cold:

Yet see how that broad, prickly, star-shaped plant,
Half down the crevice, spreads its woolly leaves

All thick and glistering with diamond dew.

And you depart for Einsiedlen to-day.

And we have spent all night in talk like this!
If you would have me better for your love,
Revert no more to these sad temes

From My last Duchess.'

That's my last Duchess painted on the wall,
Looking as if she were alive

I call

That piece a wonder, now: Fra Pandolf's hands
Worked busily a day, and there she stands.
Will 't please you sit and look at her? I said
Fra Pandolf' by design. for never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion of its earnest glance.
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
The curtain I have drawn for you but I).
And seemed as they won'd ask me, if they durst,
How such a glance came there so, not the first
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir. 'twas not
Her husband's presence only, called that spot

Of joy into the Duchess cheek, perhaps
Fra Fendolf chanced to say Her mantle laps
Over my lady's wrist too mucu,' or, Paint
Must never hope to reproduce the faint

Half flush that dies along her throat;' such stuff
Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough
For calling up that spot of joy. She had

A heart-how shall I say ?-too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er
She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.
Sir, 'twas all one! My favour at her breast,
The dropping of the daylight in the west,
The bough of cherries some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule
She rode with round the terrace-all and each
Would draw from her alike the approving speech,

Or blush, at least. She thanked men-good; but thanked
Somehow I know not how-as it ele ranked

My gift of a nine hundred years old name
With anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blame
This sort of trifling?

COVENTRY PATMORE-EDWARD ROBERT, LORD LYTTON.

The delineation of married love and the domestic affections has been attempted by MR. COVENTRY PAIMORE, who has deservedly gained reputation from the sweetness and quiet Leauty of his verse. His first work was a volume of Poems,' 1844. This was republished with large additions in 1853, under the title of Tamerton Church Tower, and other Poems.' He then produced his most important work, The Angel in the House," in four parts-'The Betrothal, 1854; The Espousal,' 1856; Faithful for Ever,' 1860; and The Victories of Love,' 1862. Mr. Faimore has also edited a volume of poetical selections, The Children's Garland, from the Best Poets, 1862. The Angel in the House' contains passages of great beauty, both in sentiment and description. Mr. Ruskin has eulogised it as a most finished piece of writing.' Its occasional felicities of expression are seen in verses like these:

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