VII

Into the street the Piper stept,
        Smiling first a little smile,
As if he knew what magic slept 100
        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;
And out of the houses the rats came tumbling. 110
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,
And step for step they followed dancing, 120
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 cherished)
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,
Into a cider-press’s gripe:  130
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 by harp or by psaltery
Is breathed) called out, ’Oh rats, rejoice! 
        The world is grown to one vast drysaltery! 
So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon,
Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!’ 140
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 roiling 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! 
Consult with carpenters and builders, 150
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