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Unable to move a step, 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 can never cross that mighty top!
He's forced to let the piping drop!

And we shall see our children stop!

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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.

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 honeybees 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!"

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 behind him.

But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor,
And Piper and dancers were gone forever,
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 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 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 neighbors 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.
So, Willy, let you and me be wipers

Of scores out with all men- especially pipers;
And, whether they pipe us free from rats or mice,
If we've promised them aught, let us keep our
promise.

A VISIT FROM ST. NICHOLAS

'TWAS

CLEMENT C. MOORE

WAS the night before Christmas, when all
through the house,

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that ST. NICHOLAS Soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads :
And Mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap: -
When out on the lawn there rose such a clatter,

I

sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave the luster of midday to objects below,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled and shouted, and called them by

name:

"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen !

On, Comet! on, Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
So
up
to the house-top the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof-
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in furs from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and

soot;

A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes how they twinkled! his dimples how merry,
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard on his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,

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