Selected Poems (Penguin Classics) Read online

  All of us get each a slice.

  How go on your flowers? None double?

  Not one fruit-sort can you spy?

  Strange! – And I, too, at such trouble,

  Keep them close-nipped on the sly!

  VII

  There’s a great text in Galatians,

  [50] Once you trip on it, entails

  Twenty-nine distinct damnations,

  One sure, if another fails:

  If I trip him just a-dying,

  Sure of heaven as sure can be,

  Spin him round and send him flying

  Off to hell, a Manichee?

  VIII

  Or, my scrofulous French novel

  On grey paper with blunt type!

  Simply glance at it, you grovel

  [60] Hand and foot in Belial’s gripe:

  If I double down its pages

  At the woeful sixteenth print,

  When he gathers his greengages,

  Ope a sieve and slip it in’t?

  IX

  Or, there’s Satan! – one might venture

  Pledge one’s soul to him, yet leave

  Such a flaw in the indenture

  As he’d miss till, past retrieve,

  Blasted lay that rose-acacia

  [70] We’re so proud of! Hy, Zy, Hine …

  ’St, there’s Vespers! Plena gratiâ

  Ave, Virgo! Gr-r-r – you swine!

  The Pied Piper of Hamelin;

  A Child’s Story

  (Written for, and inscribed to, W.M. the Younger)

  I

  Hamelin Town’s in Brunswick,

  By famous Hanover city;

  The river Weser, deep and wide,

  Washes its wall on the southern side;

  A pleasanter spot you never spied;

  But, when begins my ditty,

  Almost five hundred years ago,

  To see the townsfolk suffer so

  From vermin, was a pity.

  II

  [10] Rats!

  They fought the dogs and killed the cats,

  And bit the babies in the cradles,

  And ate the cheeses out of the vats,

  And licked the soup from the cooks’ own ladles,

  Split open the kegs of salted sprats,

  Made nests inside men’s Sunday hats,

  And even spoiled the women’s chats

  By drowning their speaking

  With shrieking and squeaking

  [20] In fifty different sharps and flats.

  III

  At last the people in a body

  To the Town Hall came flocking:

  ‘’Tis clear,’ cried they, ‘our Mayor’s a noddy;

  And as for our Corporation – shocking

  To think we buy gowns lined with ermine

  For dolts that can’t or won’t determine

  What’s best to rid us of our vermin!

  You hope, because you’re old and obese,

  To find in the furry civic robe ease?

  [30] Rouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking

  To find the remedy we’re lacking,

  Or, sure as fate, we’ll send you packing!’

  At this the Mayor and Corporation

  Quaked with a mighty consternation.

  IV

  An hour they sat in council,

  At length the Mayor broke silence:

  ‘For a guilder I’d my ermine gown sell,

  I wish I were a mile hence!

  It’s easy to bid one rack one’s brain –

  [40] I’m sure my poor head aches again,

  I’ve scratched it so, and all in vain.

  Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!’

  Just as he said this, what should hap

  At the chamber door but a gentle tap?

  ‘Bless us,’ cried the Mayor, ‘what’s that?’

  (With the Corporation as he sat,

  Looking little though wondrous fat;

  Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister

  Than a too-long-opened oyster,

  [50] Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous

  For a plate of turtle green and glutinous)

  ‘Only a scraping of shoes on the mat?

  Anything like the sound of a rat

  Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!’

  V

  ‘Come in!’ – the Mayor cried, looking bigger:

  And in did come the strangest figure!

  His queer long coat from heel to head

  Was half of yellow and half of red,

  And he himself was tall and thin,

  [60] With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin,

  And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin,

  No tuft on cheek nor beard on chin,

  But lips where smiles went out and in;

  There was no guessing his kith and kin:

  And nobody could enough admire

  The tall man and his quaint attire.

  Quoth one: ‘It’s as my great-grandsire,

  Starting up at the Trump of Doom’s tone,

  Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!’

  VI

  [70] He advanced to the council-table:

  And, ‘Please your honours,’ said he, ‘I’m able,

  By means of a secret charm, to draw

  All creatures living beneath the sun,

  That creep or swim or fly or run,

  After me so as you never saw!

  And I chiefly use my charm

  On creatures that do people harm,

  The mole and toad and newt and viper;

  And people call me the Pied Piper.’

  [80] (And here they noticed round his neck,

  A scarf of red and yellow stripe,

  To match with his coat of the self-same check;

  And at the scarf’s end hung a pipe;

  And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying

  As if impatient to be playing

  Upon this pipe, as low it dangled

  Over his vesture so old-fangled.)

  ‘Yet,’ said he, ‘poor piper as I am,

  In Tartary I freed the Cham,

  [90] Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats;

  I eased in Asia the Nizam

  Of a monstrous brood of vampire-bats:

  And as for what your brain bewilders,

  If I can rid your town of rats

  Will you give me a thousand guilders?’

  ‘One? fifty thousand!’ – was the exclamation

  Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation.

  VII

  Into the street the Piper stept,

  Smiling first a little smile,

  [100] As if he knew what magic slept

  In his quiet pipe the while;

  Then, like a musical adept,

  To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,

  And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled,

  Like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled;

  And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered,

  You heard as if an army muttered;

  And the muttering grew to a grumbling;

  And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling;

  [110] And out of the houses the rats came tumbling.

  Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,

  Brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats,

  Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,

  Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,

  Cocking 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,

  [120] 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 Caesar,

  Swam across and lived to carry

  (As he, the manuscript he c
herished)

  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 putting apples, wondrous ripe,

  [130] Into a cider-press’s gripe:

  And a moving away of pickle-tub-boards,

  And a leaving ajar of conserve-cupboards,

  And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks,

  And a breaking the hoops of butter-casks:

  And it seemed as if a voice

  (Sweeter far than bý harp or bý psaltery

  Is breathed) called out, “Oh rats, rejoice!

  The world is grown to one vast drysaltery!

  So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon,

  [140] Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!”

  And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon,

  All ready staved, like a great sun shone

  Glorious scarce an inch before me,

  Just as methought it said, “Come, bore me!”

  – I found the Weser rolling o’er me.’

  VIII

  You should have heard the Hamelin people

  Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple.

  ‘Go,’ cried the Mayor, ‘and get long poles,

  Poke out the nests and block up the holes!

  [150] 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!’

  IX

  A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue;

  So did the Corporation too.

  For council dinners made rare havoc

  With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock;

  And half the money would replenish

  [160] Their cellar’s biggest butt with Rhenish.

  To pay this sum to a wandering fellow

  With a gypsy 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 for drink,

  And a matter of money to put in your poke;

  [170] 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!’

  X

  The Piper’s face fell, and he cried

  ‘No trifling! I can’t wait, beside!

  I’ve promised to visit by dinner-time

  Bagdat, and accept the prime

  Of the Head-Cook’s pottage, all he’s rich in,

  For having left, in the Caliph’s kitchen,

  [180] 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 after another fashion.’

  XI

  ‘How?’ cried the Mayor, ‘d’ye think I 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,

  [190] 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 musician’s 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,

  [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.

  [210] Unable to move a step, or cry

  To the children merrily skipping by,

  – Could only follow with the eye

  That joyous crowd at the Piper’s back.

  But how the Major 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,

  [220] 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-side,

  A wondrous portal opened wide,

  As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed;

  And the Piper advanced and the children followed,

  [230] 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.

  [240] 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 eagles’ wings:

  And just as I became assured

  [250] 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 the 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 rate

  [260] 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 when they saw ’twas a lost endeavour,

  And Piper and dancers were gone for ever,

  They made a decree that lawyers never

  [270] 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 on pipe or tabor

  [280] 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

  [290] That in Transylvania there’s a tribe

  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 Bruswick land,

  But how or why, they don’t understand.

  XV

  [300] So, Willy, let me and you be wipers

  Of scores out with all men – especially pipers!

  And, whether they pipe us free fróm rats or fróm mice,

  If we’ve promised them aught, let us keep our promise!

  ‘How They Brought the Good News

  from Ghent to Aix’

  [16—]

  I

  I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he;

  I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three;

  ‘Good speed!’ cried the watch, as the gate-bolts undrew;

  ‘Speed!’ echoed the wall to us galloping through;

  Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest,

  And into the midnight we galloped abreast.

  II

  Not a word to each other; we kept the great pace

  Neck by neck, stride by stride, never changing our place;

  I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight,

  [10] Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right,

  Rebuckled the cheek-strap, chained slacker the bit,

  Nor galloped less steadily Roland a whit.

  III

  ’Twas moonset at starting; but while we drew near

  Lokeren, the cocks crew and twilight dawned clear;

  At Boom, a great yellow star came out to see;

  At Düffeld, ’twas morning as plain as could be;

  And from Mecheln church-steeple we heard the half-chime,

  So, Joris broke silence with, ‘Yet there is time!’

  IV

  At Aershot, up leaped of a sudden the sun,

  [20] And against him the cattle stood black every one,

  To stare through the mist at us galloping past,