The Portland daily press., 1893-12-25
The MlNsTREL's CURSE.


F. M. Ray.1
There stood in by-gone ages, castle
high and boar,
Far cleaning DER the landscape, cen to
the blue seas shore;
And round it blooming gardens shed per-
fume on the air,
And spray of sunlit fountains made
mimic rainbows there.
There sat in regal state a king of wealth
and might;
He sat upon the throne and his brow
was stern and white,
For what he thinks is hatred, and bodies
no mortal good,
And what he speaks is vengeance and
what he writes is blood.
Once toward that castle Jared gentle
minstrel pair,
One young with golden tresses ard one
with thin, gray hair;
The old man with. the harpa coal black
courser rode,
Whilst feet of foot beside him his young
companion trode.
Quoth the old man to the young one:
BE ready now, my son,
Of all our favorite lyrics, select the deep
est one;
Use all your best resources, and pass to
grave from gay;
10 move the kings hard heart is our
concern today"
Already stand the minstrels within the
pillared hall,
Where the august royal presence holds
every soul in thrall:
The king in fearful splendor, like the
- Northern lights aglow,.
The queen so sweet and tender like June
tide rose in blow.
The old man smote the harp strings with
all players skill.
Till rich, and ever richer tones the lofty
arches fill;
Then rose in wondrous clearness the
young mans matchless voice,
Like seraph songs in heaven, whereat
the gods rejoice.
They sang of love and spring-time and
glorious golden days,
OF freedom, faith and manliness and all
that merits praise;
They sang of all that's sweetest unto the
human breast,
They sang of all that's highest and hui
man lives has blest.
The careless crowd of courtiers forgot to
pass the jest;
The kings most valiant warriors the
might OF GOQ confessed,
The queen for very transport, her eyes
stuff used with tears,
Has thrown unto the ministries the sweet
est rose she wears.
would buy mislead my people and bring
my queen to shame"
Loud shrieks the king in fury, his eye
and cheek aflame;
He hurls his sabre forward; like light
njno holt il CLEANS
The young mans breast, transfxing,
from whence the life blood streams.
AS if by storm o'ertaken, the people stood
aghast;
Down sinks the fair young minstrel, his
life blood ebbing fast;
The old man wraps him in his mantle
and sets himson his horse,
And from the castle bears him, a pale
and lifeless corse.
But at the gate he fingers, that minstrel
hoary- haired,
And there his harp he seizes, and what
mona else had dared,
Upon marble column, he dashes it
amain,
Then cries in tones resounding, again
and yet again:
so woe to you, proud palace! may never
Of music and of melody in those high
halls resound;
Nay, rather signs and groanings and
tread of servil lie feet,
And the angel of swift vengeance find
there fit retreat!
"O.woe, ye fragrant gardens, in balmy
air of May!
Look on these livid features, and wither
up straightway.
Look on this scene of murder till all
your springs be dry,
And meath the skies of winter, dreary
waste ye lie.
80 woe, thou fell assassin! thou fiend in
human guise!
In vain be ali thy striving for lands and
victories;
And may. thy memory perish, to deepest
darkness fare,
Fen as breath that's breathed in bleak
and empty ART"
The old mans curse is uttered, it reach
es heavens throne;
The lofty walls have fallen. the spacious
halls are gone;
And only one tall pillar doth mark their
former site,
And even this may topple into ruin over
night.
In place of blooming gardens is now a
desert heath,
Where never tree casts shadow the hind
may rest beneath.
Unto the king no chronicle, no hero
book refers;
But nameless and forgotten this is the
minStrel'g cIIrSa