The Rhode-Island Republican. [volume] (Newport, R.I.) 1809-1841, 1812-03-25
MINSTREL'S APOLOGY.

% Tor harp, Win tones OF tnundcr
TO strike the world with fear aud wonder
o tor fiddle huge 10 match il,
Aud huge hIdi e-stlck 10 scratch it.
And U ! for forty pounds of rosin
To put upon that hddie-slick,
That nations, more than forty dozen,
Might trembIe at that fdde's squeak
And D for trumpcts loud and dread,
Whose blast would shake yon mountains head,
And awful drums, whose roll stupendoIs
Would un ali with din tremendous
And then, to aid the dreadful chime,
A double-bass, with tone sublime
AS that when midnight tempests sweep,
And lash 10 foam tn Atlantck deep,
And Che wild waves with madd'ning roar
Boom on Old Judith's rocky shore
With pusick, such this attended,
In richest countcrpont all blended,
And with q voice as loud and swelling
As voice of tyger's wrathful yelling,
Not hopeless would the Minstrei raise
The song of - - SIS praise
Then while the mighty band was thund'ring,
And mute the neck-stretch'd world stood won
d'ring,
Wrapt with his theme, in thought sublime,
Thus would the hoary Minstrel rhyme
SONG.
o thou who erst, in moment gifted,
(Thy soul TO noblest effort iifted)
When bright morn thy fancy glowing,
.As foggy morn and dri:zing
And soft as thy numbers flowing,
is eve when chtH tie northpinds rohistiHg
RepIetc win pathos, pith and griste,
Oidst wrte--dread Sire--thy dread Epistlc
CHORUS.
Jather away your drum-sticks
Puff the u prn with swelling checks,
Rosin well your fiddle e-sticks,
And dart your elbows merrily;
Brazen cymbals, clash away;
Harp, aid the lofty hay;
Sons of OrphcuS, dash away,
And pour the musick checrily
RECITATIvE.
Hail Lord of lsa, hill
To thee We build the stately rhyme,
To thee our psans swell sublime
Hail, Lord of Isla hail
Long as the sun, when sinking low,
Shall tint the west with magick glow
Long as the cloudless evening sky
Shall yield charm for poets eye
Long as the feeling heart shall love
The moonlight shore and silent grove
Long as true lovers, distant far,
Shall, signing, watch the evening star
While Lawyers lie and Minstrels sing,
Thy praise, dread sire, shall loudly ring
Hail, Lord of Isla, hail
And hail TO thine Episte
Thy name shalt float on every gale,
Till Bbrcas cracks his whistle !
Thus would the Bard his numbers pour
Say, Lord of Isla, would'st thou like them
yes-methinks see thee st'ning,
Time eye the while with rapture gltStnlng;
Nfcthnks hear thee cry, Encore
gam, We men of musick, strike them
"Ye gifted sons of harmony,
" Stay-stay not yet your tuneful elee;
"Swcct as the musick Of the spheres
I" 1t falls upon my ravish'd cars
&c Ears which could ever hear the lays
" That sing their mighty owners praise;
" Screw up your pegs. ye men of song,
"And yet the grateful theme prolong."
Thus in my attick loft sublime,
Docs Fancy light the dreary time;
Thus, Lord of Isla-bresthes her lays,
And snatches thus the need of praise.
rhe dying taper in its socket falls,
md midnight darkness shrouds my wcb-hung walls ;
rhc suriy blast around my window moans
,ockd from its base my crazy mansion groans,
Is chnky roof admits the driving storm;
hill beats the night-damp DER my wither'd form
Tr'd NATURES sweet restorer, balmy Sleep"
auick DER the shriv'rng MinstrePs senses creep.
Now, Lord of Isla, fare thee we'll
And when that trumpets blast shall swell,
When that dread fiddle shall be strung,
When that ggantick harp has rung,
Then shall thy praise be du'y sung;
Till then, sire be graciously inclind.
And for the deed accept the willing mind.
M II. March 10. 1919