Mark Scrivener Poetry Blog No. 14 Minstrel's Prayer

MINSTREL'S PRAYER

Although in one of the "ballad" forms (four line stanzas with each line of four iambic feet) this is more a scene than a story. I am not quite sure how the idea for it came but I guess it tries to say something about the nature of music and poetry. I suppose in that sense it is similar to A Eulogy for Li-Po, although from a different angle.

                            MINSTREL'S PRAYER

The yellow candlelight sinks low,

And cheerful hours grow cold and late;

Departing guests have far to go,

The fire burns out in the grate.

The minstrel's final song is sung

And now his chords no longer call;

For now his melodies have rung

Around each strong and stony wall.

The full moon rides past ragged cloud,

And lights the misty haze on high;

The midnight wind is wild and loud,

And makes the forest groan and sigh.

He lies his lute back in its case,

And silent is the darkening hall;

As sleep drifts slowly through each place,

And off to dream go one and all.

Although the song dies into dark,

The dawn will rise when night has gone;

Although the singer must depart,

Yet song itself shall carry on.