Obrázky na stránke
PDF
ePub

To go now limping as before,

And never hear of that country more!"

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 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,

[ocr errors]

"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.
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
Of alien people that ascribe

The outlandish ways and dress,

On which their neighbours lay such stress,

The Goose

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.

So, Willy, let me and you be wipers

611

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.
Robert Browning.

THE GOOSE

I KNEW an old wife lean and poor,
Her rags scarce held together;
There strode a stranger to the door,
And it was windy weather.

He held a goose upon his arm,

He utter'd rhyme and reason,

"Here, take the goose, and keep you warm,

It is a stormy season."

She caught the white goose by the leg,

A goose 'twas no great matter.

The goose let fall a golden egg
With cackle and with clatter.

She dropt the goose, and caught the pelf,
And ran to tell her neighbours;
And bless'd herself, and cursed herself, ·
And rested from her labours.

And feeding high, and living soft,
Grew plump and able-bodied;
Until the grave churchwarden doff'd,
The parson smirk'd and nodded.

So sitting, served by man and maid,
She felt her heart grow prouder:
But, ah! the more the white goose laid
It clack'd and cackled louder.

It clutter'd here, it chuckled there;
It stirr'd the old wife's mettle:
She shifted in her elbow-chair,
And hurl'd the pan and kettle.

"A quinsy choke thy cursed note!" Then wax'd her anger stronger.

"Go, take the goose, and wring her throat, I will not bear it longer."

Then yelp'd the cur, and yawl'd the cat;
Ran Gaffer, stumbled Gammer.

The goose flew this way and flew.that,
And fill'd the house with clamour.

As head and heels upon the floor
They flounder'd all together,
There strode a stranger to the door,
And it was windy weather:

He took the goose upon his arm,

He utter'd words of scorning; "So keep you cold, or keep you warm, It is a stormy morning."

The wild wind rang from park and plain,
And round the attics rumbled,

Till all the tables danced again,
And half the chimneys tumbled.

The glass blew in, the fire blew out,
The blast was hard and harder.
Her cap blew off, her gown blew up,

And a whirlwind clear'd the larder:

The Ballad of Charity

And while on all sides breaking loose
Her household fled the danger,
Quoth she, "The Devil take the goose,

And God forget the stranger!"

613

Lord Tennyson.

THE BALLAD OF CHARITY

It was in a pleasant deepô, sequestered from the rain,
That many weary passengers were waitin' for the train;
Piles of quite expensive baggage, many a gorgeous portmantó,
Ivory-handled umberellas made a most touristic show.

Whereunto there came a person, very humble was his mien, Who took an observation of the interestin' scene;

Closely scanned the umberellas, watched with joy the mighty trunks,

And observed that all the people were securin' Pullman bunks:

Who was followed shortly after by a most unhappy tramp, Upon whose features poverty had jounced her iron stamp; And to make a clear impression as bees sting you while they buzz,

She had hit him rather harder than she generally does.

For he was so awful ragged, and in parts so awful bare, That the folks were quite repulsioned to behold him begging there;

And instead of drawing currency from out their pocket-books, They drew themselves asunder with aversionary looks.

Sternly gazed the first newcomer on the unindulgent crowd, Then in tones which pierced the deepô he solilicussed aloud:

"I hev trevelled o'er this cont'nent from Quebec to Bogotáw, But sech a set of scallawags as these I never saw.

"Ye are wealthy, ye are gifted, ye have house and lands and rent,

Yet unto a suff'rin' mortal ye will not donate a cent;

Ye expend your missionaries to the heathen and the Jew, But there isn't any heathen that is half as small as you.

"Ye are lucky-ye hev cheque-books and deeposits in the bank,

And ye squanderate your money on the titled folks of rank;
The onyx and the sardonyx upon your garments shine,
An' ye drink at every dinner p'r'aps a dollar's wuth of wine.

"Ye are goin' for the summer to the islands by the sea, Where it costs four dollars daily-setch is not for setch as

me;

Iv'ry-handled umberellas do not come into my plan,

But I kin give a dollar to this suff'rin' fellow-man.

Hand-bags made of Rooshy leather are not truly at my call,

Yet in the eyes of Mussy I am richer 'en you all,

For I kin give a dollar wher' you dare not stand a dime, And never miss it nother, nor regret it ary time."

Sayin' this he drew a wallet from the inner of his vest, And gave the tramp a daddy, which it was his level best; Other people havin' heard him soon to charity inclinedOne giver soon makes twenty if you only get their wind.

The first who gave the dollar led the other one about,
And at every contribution he a-raised a joyful shout,
Exclaimin' how 'twas noble to relieviate distress.
And remarkin' that our duty is our present happiness.

Thirty dollars altogether were collected by the tramp,
When he bid 'em all good evenin' and went out into the

damp,

And was followed briefly after by the one who made the

speech,

And who showed by good example how to practise as to preach.

Which soon around the corner the couple quickly met,

And the tramp produced the specie for to liquidate his debt;

« PredošláPokračovať »