Allegories...



Sometimes dreams teach you amazing lessons.



"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, Blow your pipe there till you burst!"
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, 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, And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls. Tripping and skipping ran merrily after The wonderful music with shouting and laughter.
The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood As if they were changed into blocks of wood, 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...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 never can cross that mighty top! He's forced to let the piping drop, and We shall see our children stop!"
...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, 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.
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...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 the needle's eye takes a camel in!
...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 tabour, 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....
So...let me and you be wipers Of scores out with all men--especially pipers! And, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice,
If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise!


The Piper Piper of Hamelin by Robert Browning ©1888



It's funny what you remember...and for those that broke their promises, I will not forget. Hide if you wish, but the picture is clear. And your price? I pray that you can bear it.