Poems (Acton)/The Wandering Minstrel

For works with similar titles, see The Wandering Minstrel.
4625065Poems — The Wandering MinstrelHarriet Acton and Rose Acton

THE WANDERING MINSTREL. ——
Oh! ask no gayer measureFrom the Wand'ring Minstrel lone;Of lays of mirth and pleasureEven memory is gone.Ask ye for words of gladness'Mid the mourner's bitter woe?Seek ye a tale of love from oneWhose hopes have been laid low?Kneel ye to call to earth againThe loved ones who are gone,Ere ye ask a gayer measureOf the Wand'ring Minstrel lone. As the soul-wearied pilgrim,Through a world of ceaseless care,Watches, at last, fate's low'ring cloudsSweep by, without despair—So is it with the stricken heart,Whose dreams of joy are o'er;Through its drear path of life, deceivedBy hope's mirage no more:So is it with the heart ye seekTo gladden, as your own,The sickening, unpitied heartOf the Wand'ring Minstrel lone.
Would ye raise the fancied cup of blissTo the pale and trembling lip,And bid it dream it tastes the draughtIt, waking, could not sip?Would ye ask for tones of gladness,Whose echoes must be sighs?Would ye seek for sunny smiles of joy,In wan and care-dimmed eyes?Then ask not lays of pleasureWhere their memory is gone;Ye can list no gayer measureFrom the Wand'ring Minstrel lone.R. A.