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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409631" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. Interlude III.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409631" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">'What was the end? I am ashamed<br>Not to remember Reynard's fate;<br>I have not read the book of late;<br>Was he not hanged?' the Poet said.<br>The Student gravely shook his head,<br>And answered: 'You exaggerate.<br>There was a tournament proclaimed,<br>And Reynard fought with Isegrim<br>The Wolf, and having vanquished him,<br>Rose to high honor in the State,<br>And Keeper of the Seals was named!'<br>At this the gay Sicilian laughed:<br>'Fight fire with fire, and craft with craft;<br>Successful cunning seems to be<br>The moral of your tale,' said he.<br>'Mine had a better, and the Jew's<br>Had none at all, that I could see;<br>His aim was only to amuse.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409631" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Meanwhile from out its ebon case<br>His violin the Minstrel drew,<br>And having tuned its strings anew,<br>Now held it close in his embrace,<br>And poising in his outstretched hand<br>The bow, like a magician's wand,<br>He paused, and said, with beaming face:<br>'Last night my story was too long;<br>To-day I give you but a song,<br>An old tradition of the North;<br>But first, to put you in the mood,<br>I will a little while prelude,<br>And from this instrument draw forth<br>Something by way of overture.'</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409631" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">He played; at first the tones were pure<br>And tender as a summer night,<br>The full moon climbing to her height,<br>The sob and ripple of the seas,<br>The flapping of an idle sail;<br>And then by sudden and sharp degrees<br>The multiplied, wild harmonies<br>Freshened and burst into a gale;<br>A tempest howling through the dark,<br>A crash as of some shipwrecked bark.<br>A loud and melancholy wail.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=409631" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Such was the prelude to the tale<br>Told by the Minstrel; and at times<br>He paused amid its varying rhymes,<br>And at each pause again broke in<br>The music of his violin,<br>With tones of sweetness or of fear,<br>Movements of trouble or of calm,<br>Creating their own atmosphere;<br>As sitting in a church we hear<br>Between the verses of the psalm<br>The organ playing soft and clear,<br>Or thundering on the startled ear.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Henry+Wadsworth+Longfellow">Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</a></strong></div>