Tuesday Poem: Wordsworth's 'Minstrels'

The minstrels played their Christmas tune
To-night beneath my cottage-eaves;
While, smitten by a lofty moon,
The encircling laurels, thick with leaves,
Gave back a rich and dazzling sheen,
That overpowered their natural green.

Through hill and valley every breeze
Had sunk to rest with folded wings:
Keen was the air, but could not freeze,
Nor check, the music of the strings;
So stout and hardy were the band
That scraped the chords with strenuous hand.

And who but listened? - till was paid
Respect to every inmate's claim,
The greeting given, the music played
In honour of each household name,
Duly pronounced with lusty call,
And "Merry Christmas" wished to all.

William Wordsworth

And a very merry Christmas to everyone!!!

I'm the editor of the Tuesday Poem hub this week and have posted 'A Child's Christmas in Wales' by Dylan Thomas. To listen to this and look at other Tuesday poet's contributions please visit www.tuesdaypoem.blogspot.com


  1. A nice Christmassy note to end the poetic year--and thank you for letting me post your solstice poem, "Winter Light."

  2. Immigration to Australia, or to any new country or culture, is filled with ups and downs. But hearing the stories of other people, who have successfully been through the process, goes a long way to reducing the fear of the unknown. Allow me for a few moments to share some of our experience of immigrating to Australia. Some of the victories and challenges.
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