“As much as I your minstrelsy,
You would abhor to do me wrong
As much as I to spoil your song;
For ’twas the selfsame Power divine
Taught you to sing and me to shine;
That you with music, I with light,
Might beautify and cheer the night.”
The songster heard this short oration,
And, warbling out his approbation,
Released him, as my story tells,