Chapter 37

Bagpipe Player

Bagpipe Player

(Nuremberg Fountain)

He plays a sprightly tune in water.Each note spurts from the bronze pipe-holes;The piper playsFour spraysThat mix and make a chord their own,Bubbling in the bowl of stone.(I know this tune!First playedIn some deep German woodSome drowsy June;Where hoofed and hairy thingsRoused from the sleepy shade,Drew nearTo hear;And nymphs were unafraid!)Hans Sachs and Dürer passed this fountain,And Peter Vischer, Martin Luther’s friend;Passed to their worthy end.But did they mark the goat-god’s godless ditty?Or did the dripping little knavePlay drier tunes for themIn the staid street of the red-gabled city?

He plays a sprightly tune in water.Each note spurts from the bronze pipe-holes;The piper playsFour spraysThat mix and make a chord their own,Bubbling in the bowl of stone.(I know this tune!First playedIn some deep German woodSome drowsy June;Where hoofed and hairy thingsRoused from the sleepy shade,Drew nearTo hear;And nymphs were unafraid!)Hans Sachs and Dürer passed this fountain,And Peter Vischer, Martin Luther’s friend;Passed to their worthy end.But did they mark the goat-god’s godless ditty?Or did the dripping little knavePlay drier tunes for themIn the staid street of the red-gabled city?

He plays a sprightly tune in water.Each note spurts from the bronze pipe-holes;The piper playsFour spraysThat mix and make a chord their own,Bubbling in the bowl of stone.

He plays a sprightly tune in water.

Each note spurts from the bronze pipe-holes;

The piper plays

Four sprays

That mix and make a chord their own,

Bubbling in the bowl of stone.

(I know this tune!First playedIn some deep German woodSome drowsy June;Where hoofed and hairy thingsRoused from the sleepy shade,Drew nearTo hear;And nymphs were unafraid!)

(I know this tune!

First played

In some deep German wood

Some drowsy June;

Where hoofed and hairy things

Roused from the sleepy shade,

Drew near

To hear;

And nymphs were unafraid!)

Hans Sachs and Dürer passed this fountain,And Peter Vischer, Martin Luther’s friend;Passed to their worthy end.But did they mark the goat-god’s godless ditty?Or did the dripping little knavePlay drier tunes for themIn the staid street of the red-gabled city?

Hans Sachs and Dürer passed this fountain,

And Peter Vischer, Martin Luther’s friend;

Passed to their worthy end.

But did they mark the goat-god’s godless ditty?

Or did the dripping little knave

Play drier tunes for them

In the staid street of the red-gabled city?


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