ROBERT BROWNING The distinguished author of The Pied Piper of Hamelin, Robert Browning (1812-1889), was born near London. At the age of twelve Robert had written a large number of verses for which his father sought in vain a publisher. The boy was deeply interested in athletics. At Dulwich College, he acquired a good knowledge of music, read much poetry, but he cared little for mathematics. At the age of twenty Browning traveled through Europe for the purpose of studying history. It must have been at that time that he heard the legend of the Pied Piper of Hamelin which he has immortalized in the following poem. It is said on good authority that this delightful work was written to amuse a little boy, William Macready, who was confined to his room by illness, as well as to give the child amusing subjects for sketching. Some years later there was a children's party in the city of Rome, at which Robert Browning and Hans Christian Andersen were present. In the course of the afternoon, Browning acted The Pied Piper of Hamelin to the delight of the children. Some of his best known poems are: How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix, Hervé Riel, The Lost Leader, Saul, The Glove. His religious opinions may be found in Christmas Eve and Easter Day. Though not a Catholic, he gives a most striking description of the Consecration at the midnight Mass in St. Peter's. In the words of The Athenæum, "No poet since Burns none, perhaps, since Shakespeare - has known and felt so deeply as Browning the pathos of human life." THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN I 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. II 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 cooks' own ladles, Split open the kegs of salted sprats, Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, And even spoiled the women's chats III At last the people in a body To the Town Hall came flocking: ""Tis clear," cried they, "our Mayor's noddy; IV An hour they sat in council; At length the Mayor broke silence: It's easy to bid one rack one's brain 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 Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!" V "Come in!" the Mayor cried, looking bigger : And in did come the strangest figure! His queer long coat from heel to head |