Explore "Tales of a Wayside Inn" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"I thought before your tale began," / The Student murmured, "we should have / Some legend written by Judah Rav / In his Gemara of Babylon; / Or something from the Gulistan, -- / The tale of the Cazy of Hamadan, / Or of that King of Khorasan / Who saw in dreams the eyes of one / That had a hundred years been dead / Still moving restless in his head, / Undimmed, and gleaming with the lust / Of power, though all the rest was dust.
"But lo! your glittering caravan / On the road that leadeth to Ispahan / Hath led us farther to the East / Into the regions of Cathay. / Spite of your Kalif and his gold, / Pleasant has been the tale you told, / And full of color; that at least / No one will question or gainsay. / And yet on such a dismal day / We need a merrier tale to clear / The dark and heavy atmosphere. / So listen, Lordlings, while I tell, / Without a preface, what befell / A simple cobbler, in the year -- / No matter; it was long ago; / And that is all we need to know."