Other editions of book The pied piper of Hamelin,: And other poems,

"The Pied Piper of Hamelin, and Other Poems" by Robert Browning. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.

Mice. Millions of mice. The quiet town of Hamelin has become a hell since when it was overrun by them like by a river in flood. Fortunately, here is the savior: an eccentric piper who, for every living species, can play a driving and irresistible music. And so, following his bewitching notes, the mice will encounter their fate. But will the troubles really be over? Or is an even more dreadful scourge on the point of breaking over the quiet town of Hamelin? A ballad-like fairy tale, in the classic version by Robert Browning, with brand new illustrations. This is an ancient and timeless story, to bear in mind that keeping promises is always a good idea. It is a pleasure to publish this new, high quality, and affordable edition of this timeless story. This edition is amply illustrated. This edition also includes 13 other short stories in the form of poems.

A Part of Book A Book of PoemInto the street the Piper stept,Smiling first a little smile,As if he knew what magic sleptIn his quiet pipe the while;Then, like a musical adept,To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled,Like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled;And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered,You heard as if an army muttered;And the muttering grew to a grumbling;And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling;And out of the houses the rats came tumbling.[Pg 16]Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny ratsBrown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny ratsGrave old plodders, gay young friskers,Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,Cocking tails and pricking whiskers,Families by tens and dozens,

The Pied Piper of Hamelin and Other Poems,poems,poems for kids,Hamelin,poems for children,poetry for kids,poetry for boyOnce more he stept into the street,And to his lips againLaid his long pipe of smooth straight cane;And ere he blew three notes (such sweetSoft notes as yet musician’s cunningNever gave the enraptured air)There was a rustling that seemed like a bustlingOf 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 farmyard 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,Tripping and skipping, ran merrily afterThe wonderful music with shouting and laughter.The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stoodAs if they were changed into blocks of wood,Unable to move a step, or cryTo the children merrily skipping by,—Could only follow with the eyeThat joyous crowd at the Piper’s back.But how the Mayor was on the rack,And the wretched Council’s bosoms beat,As the Piper turned from the High StreetTo where the Weser rolled its watersRight in the way of their sons and daughters!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!”When, lo, as they reached the mountainside,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 mountainside 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 blameHis sadness, he was used to say,—“It’s dull in our town since my playmates left!I can’t forget that I’m bereftOf 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 grewAnd flowers put forth a fairer hue,And everything was strange and new;The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here,And their dogs outran our fallow deer,And honey-bees had lost their stings,And horses were born with eagles’ wings:And just as I became assuredMy 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!”

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Excerpt from The Pied Piper of Hamelin: And Other PoemsBut when one comes to compare the two poets in their art, he is at once struck with the difference between them. Tennyson's poetry is always melodious, exquisitely finished, and bears the marks of artistic labor expended upon a few familiar and recognized forms of English verse. Brown ing's poetry is sometimes melodious, sometimes in the line of English poetic tradition, but is more apt to impress one as vigorously independent of tradition, the individual note Of a mind that is eager to experiment with new forms, and superabundant in artistic activity.About the PublisherForgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.comThis book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.