THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL INTRODUCTION THE way was long, the wind was cold, Old times were changed, old manners gone; Had called his harmless art a crime. A wandering harper, scorned and poor, He passed where Newark's stately tower The embattled portal arch he passed, Though born in such a high degree; When kindness had his wants supplied, Of good Earl Francis, dead and gone, 25 330 35 40 45 50 To listen to an old man's strain, 55 Though stiff his hand, his voice though weak, He thought even yet, the sooth to speak, He could make music to her ear. The humble boon was soon obtained; And then, he said, he would full °fain He had played it to °King Charles the Good Amid the strings his fingers strayed, And an uncertain warbling made, And oft he shook his hoary head. But when he caught the measure wild, |