Once more he stept into the street;
And to his lips again
Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane; ...
There was a rustling, that seem'd like a bustling
Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling,
Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering, ...
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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,
With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,
And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls, ...
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Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after
The wonderful music with shouting and laughter. ...
And after him the children pressed;
Great was the joy in every breast. ..
When, lo, as they reached the mountain's side,
A wondrous portal opened wide, ...
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“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 every thing was strange and new...”
Oct 30, 2020 · 5:03 PM UTC
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