Never did rock or stream or tree lay claim with bet

ter right

To all the adorning sympathies of shadow and of light; And in that forest petrified, as forester, there dwells Stout Herman, the old sacristan, sole lord of all its bells.

Surge leaping after surge, the fire roared onward red as blood,

Till half of Hamburg lay engulfed beneath the eddying

flood;

For miles away the fiery spray poured down its deadly

rain,

And back and forth the billows sucked, and paused, and burst again.

From square to square with tiger leaps panted the lustful fire,

The air to leeward shuddered with the gasps of its

desire ;

And church and palace, which even now stood whelmed but to the knee,

Lift their black roofs like breakers lone amid the whirling sea.

Up in his tower old Herman sat and watched with quiet look;

His soul had trusted God too long to be at last forsook; He could not fear, for surely God a pathway would

unfold

Through this red sea for faithful hearts, as once he did of old.

But scarcely can he cross himself, or on his good saint call,

Before the sacrilegious flood o'erleaped the churchyard

wall;

And, ere a pater half was said, mid smoke and crackling glare,

His island tower scarce juts its head above the wide despair.

Upon the peril's desperate peak his heart stood up sublime;

His first thought was for God above, his next was for his chime;

"Sing now and make your voices heard in hymus of praise," cried he,

.

"As did the Israelites of old, safe walking through the

sea!

"Through this red sea our God hath made the pathway safe to shore;

Our promised land stands full in sight; shout now as ne'er before!"

And as the tower came crushing down, the bells, in

clear accord,

Pealed forth the grand old German hymn,

souls, praise the Lord!"

James Russell Lowell.

Hameln.

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 a pity.

Rats!

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:

""T is 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?
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 sat in counsel,

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.
O 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,
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 tombstone!"

He advanced to the council-table:

And, "Please your honors,” 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
A scarf of red and yellow stripe,

To match with his coat of the selfsame check;
And at the scarf's end hung a pipe;

And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying