Middletown transcript. [volume] (Middletown, Del.) 1868-current, 1905-10-21
THE PLAY or THE MINSTREL MAIDS

Celestial Muse, who once didst Homer's
verse inspire,
Touch thou my halting pen and grant my
fond desire e
While Homer sang Of Troy and Helen's
great renoWn,
Sing of fairer maids in tasteful minstrel
gown.
Then come. thou Sacred Muse and with
thy polished grace
In choicest verse sing thou their charms
so pure, SO chaste.
No minstrel garb can hide their grace,
their form divine.
For through the grimy SCOT their chiseled
features shine.
Did Burns or Byron's spade from Lethe's
sleep arise
And stir their maiden hearts with song
and glad surprise
No sirens song the am'rous sailors did
beguile.
As did those ankles fine and merry witch
ing smile.
In foremost seats the sages sat, serene,
sedate,
With face and eyes aglow they stroked
their shining pate
The youthful SWANS though seated far
ther in the rear
Made up their handicap by louder clap
and cheer.
The sages smiled, content that Cupid's
darts had hit,
While happier still the youthful beaux
for they were 1t.
But minstrel Muse, loftier vein | fain
would seek;
I'd sing of beauteous face, Of form, OF
skill technique.
Though each the fairest Of the fair and
each rose,
He'd banished be who should their part,
their name disclose.
Then how their merits tell, and fullest
praises mete,
If their names must hide, their charm
ing grace sGcrete =?
But pray my minstrel maid, how could it
jar as,
To Jay those bones belonged to fair -N's*
Could not say that she who dealt them
to us,
Perchance might own name that rhymes
with JelreSsl
Could | not say that she who touched
that sweet refrain,
And stirred our hearts with dulcet notes,
was Mss N--n'
How Sroagthe arm that swung the watch
mans rattle,
And made it sound like ancient Greeks
in battle!
No tongue can tell how much We owed
Ter
For that sweet song, -well, that vas Ms
Oh, Wood Lock my heart in her tri-
angle?
Or in her sisters sanded pad entangle?
The light fantastic feet that tripped those
fancy jigs,-
| cannot tell lie,-that was not Mrs.
BIS
With witty speech and rich burlesque,
how could we fail,
To see in her that charming, bright N'ss
or
With long iambic feet I've trod this
weary way
Now trip with swifter step the rest OF
this my lay.
So let the bells jingle
And may our hearts mingle,
In harmony's perfect accord
TO honor the modest Miss I'd.
Nav this minstrelsy night
Be kept eyer-Green;
For the Prices were bright,
And sweet as a dream.
Every maid did her part, and touched
every heart,
And | wish | could say it quite clev-
erly
For the banjo it spoke, and that was
no joke,
AS it sang to the touch Of Miss p
No stirring rhymes, in the range OF
times,
Can make our debt the clearer
Those sisters three, sweet trinity,
Have made our task the dearer.
Their ready wit, and happy hit
Have made our town the brighter;
We won't forget, and ne'er regret
THEY'VE made our hearts the lighter.
But brief, too brief, like autumn leaf,
Our DAYS have been together
And when they leave, our hearts bereave
Till next they tread our heather.
No words or cheers, our McAleers,
Could pay them for their labors
With hearts SO warm, their grace and
charm,
We'd have them for our neighbors
Began this rhyme, with merry chime,
But now its turned to sadness
PRAY take our heart, when you depart,
And fill our homes with gladness.
ONE OF THE TSHERS.