Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 17, 2025
"But not without renown, monk not without the tears of the lady of my love! These consolations, which thou canst neither know nor estimate, await upon Richard to his grave." "DO I not know, CAN I not estimate the value of minstrel's praise and of lady's love?" retorted the hermit, in a tone which for a moment seemed to emulate the enthusiasm of Richard himself.
Some idea of the estimation in which she was then held is proved by Allan Cunningham's dictum that 'Mary Howitt has shown herself mistress of every string of the minstrel's lyre, save that which sounds of broil and bloodshed. There is more of the old ballad simplicity in her composition than can be found in the strains of any living poet besides. Another critic compared Mrs.
He lingered by the fountain until nightfall, saying to himself: 'Why should I go on longer in these foolish quests, keeping tryst with shadows that vanish at the touch? No nearer am I to a knight's estate than, when a stripling page, I listened to the minstrel's tales. "The fountain softly splashed within the garden.
Here, lad! and dropping a gold coin into the wooden bowl carried round by the blind minstrel's attendant, he was turning away, when the glee-man, detecting perhaps the ring of the coin, broke forth in stirring tones "It fell about the Lammas tide, When moormen win their hay, The doughty Earl of Douglas rode Into England to catch a prey."
Try if F. B. will put the rhymes into the paper. Do they take it in in Park Lane? See whether you can get me a guinea for these tears of mine: "Mes Larmes," Pen, do you remember? Yours ever, C. N. The verses are enclosed. O ma Reine! Although the Minstrel's lost you long, Although for bread the Minstrel sings, Ah, still for you he pipes the song, And thrums upon the crazy strings!
The rooms were well filled; the clatter of innumerable tongues speaking English with that resonant dryness which reminds one of nothing else so much as of the clack of a negro minstrel's clappers indefinitely reduplicated, rang in the ears with confusing steadiness.
It is not far hence, By mile measure, that the mere stands, Over which hang rimy groves. WIDSITH. The poem "Widsith," the wide goer or wanderer, is in part, at least, probably the oldest in our language. The author and the date of its composition are unknown; but the personal account of the minstrel's life belongs to the time before the Saxons first came to England.
He looked around to see that observation was indeed at a distance. The agitated Bruce, accidentally raising his head, beheld a man in a minstrel's garb, much to tall to be his senachie, approaching him with a caution which he thought portended treachery. He sprung to his feet, and caught his sword from the table; but, in that moment, Wallace threw off his cowl.
Wild as the land was, they came at even to a place where were a few houses of woodmen or hunters; and they got off their horses and knocked at the door of one of these, and a great black-haired carle opened to them, who, when he saw the knight's armour, would have clapped the door to again, had not Ralph by the minstrel's rede held out the parchment to him, who when he saw it became humble indeed, and gave them such guesting as he might, which was scant indeed of victual or drink, save wild-fowl from the heath.
He knew now he had fallen in the pool that lies upon the far edge of the fearsome wood, a pool so deep and of such whirling motion that only by the fiercest struggle may one escape. Gladly he would have allowed the waters to close over him, such cold pains smote his heart, had he not seemed to hear the old minstrel's song.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking