125. COUNT EBERHARD.
FOUR counts together sat to dine,
And when the feast was done,
Each, pushing round the rosy wine,
To praise his land begun.
The Margrave talked of healthful springs,
Another praised his vines;
Bohemia spoke of precious things
In many darksome mines.
Count Eberhard sat silent there-
"Now, Würtember, begin!
There must be something good and fair
Your pleasant country in !"
"In healthful springs and purple wine,"
Connt Eberhard replied-
"In costly gems and gold to shine,
I cannot match your pride;
"But you shall hear a simple tale :
One night I lost my way
Within a wood, along a vale,
And down to sleep I lay.
"And there I dreamed that I was dead,
And funeral lamps were shining
With solemn lustre round my head,
Within a vault reclining.
"And men and women stood beside
My cold sepulchral bed;
And shedding many tears, they cried
'Count Eberhard is dead!'
"A tear upon my face fell down,
And, waking with a start,
I found my head was resting on
A Würtemburgian heart!
"A woodman 'mid the forest-shade
Had found me in my rest,
Had lifted up my head, and laid
It softly on his breast!"
The princes sat, and wondering heard,
Then said, as closed the story,
"Long live the good Count Eberhard-
His people's love his glory!"
Translated from Zimmerman.
126. THE ORPHAN.
My mother, does thy gentle eye
Look from those distant stars on me?
Or does the wind at evening bear
A message to thy child from thee?
The vesper bell !-'tis eventide,
I will not weep, but I will pray :
God of the fatherless, 'tis Thou
Alone canst be the orphan's stay!
Earth's meanest flower, heaven's mightiest star, Are equal to their Maker's love:
And I can say "Thy will be done,'
With eyes that fix their hopes above.
THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN.
127. THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN.
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
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 cook's 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
In fifty different sharps and flats.
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?
THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN.
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.
An hour they sate 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-
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,
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!"
"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,
With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin,
And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin,
No tuft on cheek nor beard on chin,
THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN.
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 tomb-stone !"
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."
(And here they noticed round his neck
À scarf of red and yellow stripe,
To match with his coat of the self-same cheque
And at the scarf's end hung a pipe;
And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying
As if impatient to be playing
Upon his 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
Last June from his huge swarms of gnats;
I eased in Asia the Nizam
Of a monstrous brood of vampyre 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.
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