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Updated: May 17, 2025
Heaven breathes the soul into the minstrel's breast, But with that soul he animates the rest; The god inspires the mortal but to God, In turn, the mortal lifts thee from the sod. Oh, not in vain to heaven the bard is dear; Holy himself he hallows those who hear! The busy mart let justice still control, Weighing the guerdon to the toil! What then?
"In these very scales shalt thou weigh me out," said the relentless Baron, "a thousand silver pounds, after the just measure and weight of the Tower of London." "Holy Abraham!" returned the Jew, finding voice through the very extremity of his danger, "heard man ever such a demand? Who ever heard, even in a minstrel's tale, of such a sum as a thousand pounds of silver?
You have now little chance of that good fortune, for Earl de Valence has taken her abroad, intending to marry her amidst all the state with which my lord has invested him." "Is it to Guienne he has taken her?" inquired Wallace. "Yes," replied the queen, rather pleased than offended at the minstrel's ignorance of court ceremony in thus familiarly presuming to put a question to her.
Father was tremendously urging himself to play the mouth-organ there, to skip and be nimble, and gain a minstrel's meed. Meaning lunch. Frowning with intentness, he stopped before the house. Mother meekly halted beside him. She had not lost quite all of the training in self-dependence she had got from a business life, these last weeks, but she looked to him for leadership in the new existence.
And now the long evenings have set in, and our ancestors in hall or cottage assemble round the blazing hearth, and listen to the minstrel's lays, and recite their oft-told tales of adventure and romance. Sometimes they indulge in asking each other riddles, and there exists at the present time an old collection of these early efforts of wit and humour which are not of a very high order.
That minstrel's tune runs in my head even now a queer little stolid tune that recalls vividly to me the aspect of the dance. It is the sort of tune Bottom the Weaver must often have danced to in his youth. I wish I could hum it for you on paper. I wish I could set down for you on paper the sight that it conjures up. But what writer that ever lived has been able to write adequately about a dance?
Having first carefully put his green turban out of sight, and assumed a Greek cap in its stead, he requited the Norman minstrel's music with a drinking song from the Persian, and quaffed a hearty flagon of Cyprus wine, to show that his practice matched his principles.
Sweet is the Minstrel's task, whose song Of deeds like these may tell; And long may he have power to give, Who wields that Dower so well! In the year 1851 Mr. Barnum had purchased from William H. Noble, of Bridgeport, Conn., the undivided half of his late father's homestead fifty acres of land on the east side of the river, opposite the city of Bridgeport.
Hearken! these be the songs that glad the heart, and fill the minstrel's purse. And he sung so blasphemous a stave, and eke so obscene, as I drew away from him a space that the lightning might not spoil the new psaltery. However, none came, being winter, and then I said, 'Master, the Lord is debonair. Held I the thunder, yon ribaldry had been thy last, thou foul-mouthed wretch.
Since then eagles had perched on its crown, and wild boars fed without fear of man upon its acorns. Troubadours had sung beneath it to lords and ladies seated round, or walking on the grass and commenting the minstrel's tales of love by exchange of amorous glances. Mediaeval sculptors had taken its leaves, and wisely trusting to nature, had adorned churches with those leaves cut in stone.
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