The Minstrel.

"What tuneful strains salute mine ear     Without the castle walls?     Oh, let the song re-echo here,     Within our festal halls!"     Thus spake the king, the page out-hied;     The boy return'd; the monarch cried:     "Admit the old man yonder!"     "All hail, ye noble lords to-night!     All hail, ye beauteous dames!     Star placed by star! What heavenly sight!     Whoe'er can tell their names?     Within this glittering hall sublime,     Be closed, mine eyes! 'tis not the time     For me to feast my wonder."     The minstrel straightway closed his eyes,     And woke a thrilling tone;     The knights look'd on in knightly guise,     Fair looks tow'rd earth were thrown.     The monarch, ravish'd by the strain,     Bade them bring forth a golden chain,     To be his numbers' guerdon.     "The golden chain give not to me,     But give the chain to those     In whose bold face we shiver'd see     The lances of our foes.     Or give it to thy chancellor there;     With other burdens he may bear     This one more golden burden.     "I sing, like birds of blithesome note,     That in the branches dwell;     The song that rises from the throat     Repays the minstrel well.     One boon I'd crave, if not too bold     One bumper in a cup of gold     Be as my guerdon given."     The bowl he raised, the bowl he quaff'd:     "Oh drink, with solace fraught!     Oh, house thrice-blest, where such a draught     A trifling gift is thought!     When Fortune smiles, remember me,     And as I thank you heartily,     As warmly thank ye Heaven!"