The Minstrel’s Curse. (From the German of Uhland.)

A young man is lying on the ground with his eyes closed. An older man is kneeling beside him; he has one hand supporting the younger man’s back and one hand holding the younger man’s hand. There is a crowd of knights wearing armor with their arms thrust into the air in the background. Some of the knights are holding spears. Laurel wreaths are scattered on the ground. 1/2 page illustration contained within a single-ruled border.

In days of old a castle stood high and proud to view, Over the landscape shining, far as the ocean blue, Wreath’d all around with gardens, where ’mid thefragrant flowers, The air was cool’d by fountains, sparkling in rainbowshowers. There sat a haughty monarch, in lands and conquestsgreat, Upon his throne, wan-visaged, he sat in sullen state ; His thoughts are all of horrors, his eyes are bright withrage ; His words they fall like scourges ; he writes, bloodstains the page. Once came there to his castle a noble minstrel pair, The locks of one were golden—silver the other’s hair ; With harp the old man journey’d, a stately horseastride, His blooming comrade gaily walk’d by the horse’s side. The old bespoke the younger : “ Prepare, my son,make choice Of all our songs the deepest—attune thy fullest voice— Exert thy utmost power—of joy and sorrow sing : Our aim must be to waken the hard heart of the king.” Within the Hall of Columns now the two minstrelsstand, Upon his throne the monarch, his queen at his righthand ; The king all dread and stately—a blood red NorthernLight, The queen all sweet and gentle—a full moon shiningbright. The greybeard struck the harp-strings, he struck themwondrous well, Upon the ear they sounded with rich and richerswell ; Then came the youth’s voice gushing—so heav’nly clearit rang, And, like a spirit chorus, between the old man sang. They sang of love and spring-time, of happy goldendays, Of truth and manly honour—they sang in freedom’spraise— They sang of all things lofty, they sang of all thingssweet, That make men’s bosoms quiver, that make men’shearts to beat. Around, their sports forgetting, gather’d the courtiercrowd : The haughty warriors, humbled, before their Makerbow’d ; The queen herself was melted by tales of joys andwoes, And threw down to the singers, pluck’d from herbreast, a rose. “ My folk you have enchanted : charm you my wife toboot ?” The monarch cried, with fury he shook from head tofoot, Then hurl’d his sword, that, flashing, the young man’sbosom tore, Whence, ’stead of golden music, issued a stream of gore. The list’ners all were scatter’d (as when a storm alarms), The youth breathed out his spirit, clasp’d in his master’sarms ; The corpse within his mantle he wrapp’d, and bound itfast Upright upon his palfrey, and from the castle pass’d. Before the lofty portals the grey-hair’d minstrel stands, His harp, of harps the treasure, he seizes in hishands, And ’gainst a marble column he casts it with a cry Through castle and through gardens that echoes awfully : “ Woe to you, halls so haughty ! Never let music-strain Re-echo through thy vaultings, nor harp nor song,again ! Let sighs and groanings only for ever bear the sway, Until th’ avenging angel has crush’d you in decay ! “ Woe to you, fragrant gardens, in golden light of May, This dead man’s face disfigured I show to you this day : That you at it may wither, that every well may dry, That you from hence for ever a stony waste may lie ! “ Woe to you, curs’d assassin ! of minstrelsy the bane ! Be all thy blood-stain’d struggles for glory’s wreath invain ! Thy name be it forgotten in night without an end, And like a last death-rattle with empty vapour blend !” The minstrel old had spoken, and heaven had heard hiscry ; The halls are all in ruins, the walls all prostrate lie ; Witness of pride long vanish’d still stands one columntall, And this, already shatter’d, to-night to earth may fall. Instead of fragrant gardens, a desert heather-land ! No tree gives shade, no fountain comes welling throughthe sand : No songs, no hero-stories, the monarch’s name re-hearse, For ever lost, forgotten !—Such is the Minstrel’s Curse !