Alas, alas for Hamelin! There came into many a burgher's pate A text which says that heaven's gate As the needle's eye takes a camel in! And bring the children behind him. 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 StreetWhere any one playing on pipe or tabor Was sure for the future to lose his labor. 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 there it stands to this very day. That in Transylvania there's a tribe The outlandish ways and dress On which their neighbors lay such stress, Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land, So, Willy, let me and you be wipers 299 Of scores out with all men-especially pipers! And, whether they pipe us free from rats or fróm mice, If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise! 1843. 303 Robert Browning. THE JACKDAW OF RHEIMS THE Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair! Many a monk, and many a friar, Many a knight, and many a squire, With a great many more of lesser degree,— In sooth, a goodly company; And they served the Lord Primate on bended knee. Never, I ween, Was a prouder seen, Read of in books, or dreamt of in dreams, 10 Than the Cardinal Lord Archbishop of Rheims! In and out, Through the motley rout, That little Jackdaw kept hopping about; Here and there, Like a dog in a fair, Over comfits and cates, And dishes and plates, Cowl and cope, and rochet and pall, He perched on the chair Where, in state, the great Lord Cardinal sat, Of his Lordship's Grace, With a satisfied look, as if he would say, "WE TWO are the greatest folks here to-day!" And the priests, with awe, As such freaks they saw, Said, "The Devil must be in that little Jack daw!" 20 30 The feast was over, the board was cleared, Two by two, Marching that grand refectory through! As any that flows between Rheims and Namur, A napkin bore, 40 50 Of the best white diaper, fringed with pink, The great Lord Cardinal turns at the sight His costly turquoise : And, not thinking at all about little Jackdaws, Deposits it straight By the side of his plate, While the nice little boys on his Eminence wait; Till, when nobody's dreaming of any such And nobody seems to know what they 're about, But the monks have their pockets all turned inside out; 60 The friars are kneeling, And hunting and feeling The carpet, the floor, and the walls, and the ceiling. The Cardinal drew Off each plum-colored shoe, 70 And left his red stockings exposed to the view: He peeps, and he feels In the toes and the heels. They turn up the dishes,-they turn up the plates,― They take up the poker and poke out the grates, They examine the mugs; And the Abbot declared that "when nobody twigged it, 80 Some rascal or other had popped in and prigged it!" The Cardinal rose with a dignified look, He called for his candle, his bell, and his book! In holy anger and pious grief He solemnly cursed that rascally thief! He cursed him at board, he cursed him in bed; From the sole of his foot to the crown of his head; He cursed him in sleeping, that every night He should dream of the Devil, and wake in a fright. He cursed him in eating, he cursed him in drinking, |