The Errant Minstrel
Through the countryside I've trodden
Crossing every wood and dale,
Oft my weary feet are sodden
When a stream doth meet my trail.
Since my wand'rings brought me hither
And I sit here in your hall,
I shall now bring forth my zither,
And I pray you, hearken all.
I shall sing of times now past,
Of the puissant kings of yore.
Of their treasure great amass'd
Of their chivalry, and more.
May the tale I sing belike you,
Lords and ladies of this hall.
And if 'tis so, I pray you,
Please take notice of your thrall.
Poet's note: My sister has suggested that I lengthen this poem and add to it the minstrel's song. Do you think I ought to do this, or should I consider it finished?
1 Comments:
Yes! I'm really hoping you'll put this to music, the kind they had back in the Middle Ages.
I know, you already knew that ;)
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