Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. Interlude Vi. Poem Rhyme Scheme

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'Now that is after my own heart '	A
The Poet cried 'one understands	B
Your swarthy hero Scanderbeg	C
Gauntlet on hand and boot on leg	C
And skilled in every warlike art	D
Riding through his Albanian lands	B
And following the auspicious star	E
That shone for him o'er Ak Hissar '	A
	-
The Theologian added here	F
His word of praise not less sincere	G
Although he ended with a jibe	H
'The hero of romance and song	C
Was born ' he said 'to right the wrong	C
And I approve but all the same	I
That bit of treason with the Scribe	H
Adds nothing to your hero's fame '	-
	-
The Student praised the good old times	J
And liked the canter of the rhymes	J
That had a hoofbeat in their sound	K
But longed some further word to hear	F
Of the old chronicler Ben Meir	G
And where his volume might he found	K
	-
The tall Musician walked the room	L
With folded arms and gleaming eyes	M
As if he saw the Vikings rise	M
Gigantic shadows in the gloom	L
And much he talked of their emprise	M
And meteors seen in Northern skies	M
And Heimdal's horn and day of doom	L
But the Sicilian laughed again	N
'This is the time to laugh ' he said	O
For the whole story he well knew	P
Was an invention of the Jew	P
Spun from the cobwebs in his brain	Q
And of the same bright scarlet thread	O
As was the Tale of Kambalu	R
	-
Only the Landlord spake no word	S
'T was doubtful whether he had heard	S
The tale at all so full of care	T
Was he of his impending fate	U
That like the sword of Damocles	V
Above his head hung blank and bare	T
Suspended by a single hair	T
So that he could not sit at ease	V
But sighed and looked disconsolate	U
And shifted restless in his chair	T
Revolving how he might evade	U
The blow of the descending blade	U
	-
The Student came to his relief	W
By saying in his easy way	X
To the Musician 'Calm your grief	W
My fair Apollo of the North	Y
Balder the Beautiful and so forth	Y
Although your magic lyre or lute	U
With broken strings is lying mute	U
Still you can tell some doleful tale	R
Of shipwreck in a midnight gale	R
Or something of the kind to suit	U
The mood that we are in to night	U
For what is marvellous and strange	Z
So give your nimble fancy range	Z
And we will follow in its flight '	-
	-
But the Musician shook his head	U
'No tale I tell to night ' he said	U
'While my poor instrument lies there	T
Even as a child with vacant stare	T
Lies in its little coffin dead '	-
	-
Yet being urged he said at last	U
'There comes to me out of the Past	U
A voice whose tones are sweet and wild	U
Singing a song almost divine	A2
And with a tear in every line	A2
An ancient ballad that my nurse	B2
Sang to me when I was a child	U
In accents tender as the verse	B2
And sometimes wept and sometimes smiled	U
While singing it to see arise	M
The look of wonder in my eyes	M
And feel my heart with terror beat	U
This simple ballad I retain	Q
Clearly imprinted on my brain	Q
And as a tale will now repeat '	-

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. Interlude Vi. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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