English Narrative Poems

Narrative poetry, English; Readers -- Poetry

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                                      135
    (Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery
    Is breathed) called out, 'O 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,
    Already 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."                            145


    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

    A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue;                      155
    So did the Corporation too.
    For council dinners made rare havoc
    With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock;
    And half the money would replenish
    Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish.                        160
    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,                            165
    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[257];
    But as for the guilders, what we spoke                           170
    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!                              175
    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,
    Of a nest of scorpions no survivor:                              180
    With him I proved no bargain-driver,
    With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver[258]!
    And folks who put me in a passion
    May find me pipe after another fashion."


    XI

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

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English Narrative Poems

Narrative poetry, English; Readers -- Poetry

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                                      135
    (Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery
    Is breathed) called out, 'O 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,
    Already 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."                            145


    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

    A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue;                      155
    So did the Corporation too.
    For council dinners made rare havoc
    With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock;
    And half the money would replenish
    Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish.                        160
    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,                            165
    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[257];
    But as for the guilders, what we spoke                           170
    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!                              175
    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,
    Of a nest of scorpions no survivor:                              180
    With him I proved no bargain-driver,
    With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver[258]!
    And folks who put me in a passion
    May find me pipe after another fashion."


    XI

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

English Narrative Poems

English Narrative Poems

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