Prince Rasselas Part 2

Rasselas and the Minstrel's Story

For the next twenty months 

The Prince dawdled on

Thinking and Imagining on the outside world

And always in his idle dreaming

He fights for the poor, and works for their good

As he sat by the stream

Or walked by the woods

He'd think and Imagine the outside world

Now once when he was encased in his thoughts

As he thought of the outside world,

He imagined an orphan, maiden girl,

Who was cheated from all she had,

And he (in his thoughts) was fighting the man

Who had taken the last of her money,

In the heat of his thoughts, he jumped up and began

To chase his imaginary foe

When finally he stopped, by the large rock wall

That  encased the happy valley

And he realized then,

That for full twenty months,

He had dawdled his time again,

Two years had passed, in idle thought

And nought had he accomplished.

In his sorrow at this,

For the next five months,

He mourned his lost time

Until he heard a maid, remark to her friend

"Well, no use crying over something not to be fixed"

(For she had broken a teacup)

Than he started from his sorrow

And than brought his thoughts, 

To how he should escape.

Now their was a man, who excited him,

Saying he was building a flying machine

And for quite a few weeks

The Prince helped him,

With narrow hope, but thought hope indeed

And when it was finished,

To his sad dismay

The wings only worked in the water.

But he wasn't much sad,

For it was as much as he expected

And he turned his thoughts elsewhere

Prince Rasselas knew a poet

And a good friend he was

He would tell him of the outside world

In a way that was most intriguing

So intriguing indeed, that the prince was sad

That sleep was such a necessity.

So Imlac told his story which went something like this

(but oh! it is only half done)

This minstrel man had a wealthy father

Who owned much, but showed little

When the poet was of age

His father sent him out,

With one thousand gold pieces in pocket

He told him to go and explore the world

For he was well educated of his town

He had grown up in school

Knew much literature by heart

And didn't dismay in books

The poet went out, and enjoyed the sights

He loved to learn, about the country he walked through

He traveled by boat, and he traveled by road

And he was overjoyed to know,

That wherever he did go,

He would always see something new

But the rest of his story,

I will not yet relate

So wait but a week

And you'll here the story

Of how and why he came

To the Happy Valley,

Where now he dwells. 

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