Explore "Tales of a Wayside Inn" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The hour was late; the fire burned low, / The Landlord's eyes were closed in sleep, / And near the story's end a deep / Sonorous sound at times was heard, / As when the distant bagpipes blow. / At this all laughed; the Landlord stirred, / As one awaking from a swound, / And, gazing anxiously around, / Protested that he had not slept, / But only shut his eyes, and kept / His ears attentive to each word.
Then all arose, and said "Good Night. " / Alone remained the drowsy Squire / To rake the embers of the fire, / And quench the waning parlor light. / While from the windows, here and there, / The scattered lamps a moment gleamed, / And the illumined hostel seemed / The constellation of the Bear, / Downward, athwart the misty air, / Sinking and setting toward the sun, / Far off the village clock struck one.