The Spanish Jew's Second Tale - The Wayside Inn - Part Third Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: A BBCCDEED FGGFCCEDEEDD HEEHEIEI EEAAJEEKLL EEEMEEMEE HHEEAABBBMM NNAOMEPAPE EEEEAEA MEMEEEMEMME EEEEEEEEEE AAMEAAMEEEEE MQQMRRRMEERM RSRRSHRRHRHRHR EEEEOSAAEEERRE HHEAAEAHHSASSA PRPRRHSSHRS E EHAAEHSS SSNAAPNP HHESSETHHTHHTRESSREA EESEHSSHESEE UEUDDEEAAEEVVE EESSE EEERRHEHEHHERRESCANDERBEG | A |
- | |
The battle is fought and won | B |
By King Ladislaus the Hun | B |
In fire of hell and death's frost | C |
On the day of Pentecost | C |
And in rout before his path | D |
From the field of battle red | E |
Flee all that are not dead | E |
Of the army of Amurath | D |
- | |
In the darkness of the night | F |
Iskander the pride and boast | G |
Of that mighty Othman host | G |
With his routed Turks takes flight | F |
From the battle fought and lost | C |
On the day of Pentecost | C |
Leaving behind him dead | E |
The army of Amurath | D |
The vanguard as it led | E |
The rearguard as it fled | E |
Mown down in the bloody swath | D |
Of the battle's aftermath | D |
- | |
But he cared not for Hospodars | H |
Nor for Baron or Voivode | E |
As on through the night he rode | E |
And gazed at the fateful stars | H |
That were shining overhead | E |
But smote his steed with his staff | I |
And smiled to himself and said | E |
This is the time to laugh | I |
- | |
In the middle of the night | E |
In a halt of the hurrying flight | E |
There came a Scribe of the King | A |
Wearing his signet ring | A |
And said in a voice severe | J |
This is the first dark blot | E |
On thy name George Castriot | E |
Alas why art thou here | K |
And the army of Amurath slain | L |
And left on the battle plain | L |
- | |
And Iskander answered and said | E |
They lie on the bloody sod | E |
By the hoofs of horses trod | E |
But this was the decree | M |
Of the watchers overhead | E |
For the war belongeth to God | E |
And in battle who are we | M |
Who are we that shall withstand | E |
The wind of his lifted hand | E |
- | |
Then he bade them bind with chains | H |
This man of books and brains | H |
And the Scribe said What misdeed | E |
Have I done that without need | E |
Thou doest to me this thing | A |
And Iskander answering | A |
Said unto him Not one | B |
Misdeed to me hast thou done | B |
But for fear that thou shouldst run | B |
And hide thyself from me | M |
Have I done this unto thee | M |
- | |
Now write me a writing O Scribe | N |
And a blessing be on thy tribe | N |
A writing sealed with thy ring | A |
To King Amurath's Pasha | O |
In the city of Croia | M |
The city moated and walled | E |
That he surrender the same | P |
In the name of my master the King | A |
For what is writ in his name | P |
Can never be recalled | E |
- | |
And the Scribe bowed low in dread | E |
And unto Iskander said | E |
Allah is great and just | E |
But we are as ashes and dust | E |
How shall I do this thing | A |
When I know that my guilty head | E |
Will be forfeit to the King | A |
- | |
Then swift as a shooting star | M |
The curved and shining blade | E |
Of Iskander's scimetar | M |
From its sheath with jewels bright | E |
Shot as he thundered Write | E |
And the trembling Scribe obeyed | E |
And wrote in the fitful glare | M |
Of the bivouac fire apart | E |
With the chill of the midnight air | M |
On his forehead white and bare | M |
And the chill of death in his heart | E |
- | |
Then again Iskander cried | E |
Now follow whither I ride | E |
For here thou must not stay | E |
Thou shalt be as my dearest friend | E |
And honors without end | E |
Shall surround thee on every side | E |
And attend thee night and day | E |
But the sullen Scribe replied | E |
Our pathways here divide | E |
Mine leadeth not thy way | E |
- | |
And even as he spoke | A |
Fell a sudden scimetar stroke | A |
When no one else was near | M |
And the Scribe sank to the ground | E |
As a stone pushed from the brink | A |
Of a black pool might sink | A |
With a sob and disappear | M |
And no one saw the deed | E |
And in the stillness around | E |
No sound was heard but the sound | E |
Of the hoofs of Iskander's steed | E |
As forward he sprang with a bound | E |
- | |
Then onward he rode and afar | M |
With scarce three hundred men | Q |
Through river and forest and fen | Q |
O'er the mountains of Argentar | M |
And his heart was merry within | R |
When he crossed the river Drin | R |
And saw in the gleam of the morn | R |
The White Castle Ak Hissar | M |
The city Croia called | E |
The city moated and walled | E |
The city where he was born | R |
And above it the morning star | M |
- | |
Then his trumpeters in the van | R |
On their silver bugles blew | S |
And in crowds about him ran | R |
Albanian and Turkoman | R |
That the sound together drew | S |
And he feasted with his friends | H |
And when they were warm with wine | R |
He said O friends of mine | R |
Behold what fortune sends | H |
And what the fates design | R |
King Amurath commands | H |
That my father's wide domain | R |
This city and all its lands | H |
Shall be given to me again | R |
- | |
Then to the Castle White | E |
He rode in regal state | E |
And entered in at the gate | E |
In all his arms bedight | E |
And gave to the Pasha | O |
Who ruled in Croia | S |
The writing of the King | A |
Sealed with his signet ring | A |
And the Pasha bowed his head | E |
And after a silence said | E |
Allah is just and great | E |
I yield to the will divine | R |
The city and lands are thine | R |
Who shall contend with fate | E |
- | |
Anon from the castle walls | H |
The crescent banner falls | H |
And the crowd beholds instead | E |
Like a portent in the sky | A |
Iskander's banner fly | A |
The Black Eagle with double head | E |
And a shout ascends on high | A |
For men's souls are tired of the Turks | H |
And their wicked ways and works | H |
That have made of Ak Hissar | S |
A city of the plague | A |
And the loud exultant cry | S |
That echoes wide and far | S |
Is Long live Scanderbeg | A |
- | |
It was thus Iskander came | P |
Once more unto his own | R |
And the tidings like the flame | P |
Of a conflagration blown | R |
By the winds of summer ran | R |
Till the land was in a blaze | H |
And the cities far and near | S |
Sayeth Ben Joshua Ben Meir | S |
In his Book of the Words of the Days | H |
Were taken as a man | R |
Would take the tip of his ear | S |
- | |
- | |
- | |
INTERLUDE | E |
- | |
Now that is after my own heart | E |
The Poet cried one understands | H |
Your swarthy hero Scanderbeg | A |
Gauntlet on hand and boot on leg | A |
And skilled in every warlike art | E |
Riding through his Albanian lands | H |
And following the auspicious star | S |
That shone for him o'er Ak Hissar | S |
- | |
The Theologian added here | S |
His word of praise not less sincere | S |
Although he ended with a jibe | N |
The hero of romance and song | A |
Was born he said to right the wrong | A |
And I approve but all the same | P |
That bit of treason with the Scribe | N |
Adds nothing to your hero's fame | P |
- | |
The Student praised the good old times | H |
And liked the canter of the rhymes | H |
That had a hoofbeat in their sound | E |
But longed some further word to hear | S |
Of the old chronicler Ben Meir | S |
And where his volume might he found | E |
The tall Musician walked the room | T |
With folded arms and gleaming eyes | H |
As if he saw the Vikings rise | H |
Gigantic shadows in the gloom | T |
And much he talked of their emprise | H |
And meteors seen in Northern skies | H |
And Heimdal's horn and day of doom | T |
But the Sicilian laughed again | R |
This is the time to laugh he said | E |
For the whole story he well knew | S |
Was an invention of the Jew | S |
Spun from the cobwebs in his brain | R |
And of the same bright scarlet thread | E |
As was the Tale of Kambalu | A |
- | |
Only the Landlord spake no word | E |
'T was doubtful whether he had heard | E |
The tale at all so full of care | S |
Was he of his impending fate | E |
That like the sword of Damocles | H |
Above his head hung blank and bare | S |
Suspended by a single hair | S |
So that he could not sit at ease | H |
But sighed and looked disconsolate | E |
And shifted restless in his chair | S |
Revolving how he might evade | E |
The blow of the descending blade | E |
- | |
The Student came to his relief | U |
By saying in his easy way | E |
To the Musician Calm your grief | U |
My fair Apollo of the North | D |
Balder the Beautiful and so forth | D |
Although your magic lyre or lute | E |
With broken strings is lying mute | E |
Still you can tell some doleful tale | A |
Of shipwreck in a midnight gale | A |
Or something of the kind to suit | E |
The mood that we are in to night | E |
For what is marvellous and strange | V |
So give your nimble fancy range | V |
And we will follow in its flight | E |
- | |
But the Musician shook his head | E |
No tale I tell to night he said | E |
While my poor instrument lies there | S |
Even as a child with vacant stare | S |
Lies in its little coffin dead | E |
- | |
Yet being urged he said at last | E |
There comes to me out of the Past | E |
A voice whose tones are sweet and wild | E |
Singing a song almost divine | R |
And with a tear in every line | R |
An ancient ballad that my nurse | H |
Sang to me when I was a child | E |
In accents tender as the verse | H |
And sometimes wept and sometimes smiled | E |
While singing it to see arise | H |
The look of wonder in my eyes | H |
And feel my heart with tenor beat | E |
This simple ballad I retain | R |
Clearly imprinted on my brain | R |
And as a tale will now repeat | E |
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
(1)
Poem topics: , Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
Submit Spanish Translation
Submit German Translation
Submit French Translation
Write your comment about The Spanish Jew's Second Tale - The Wayside Inn - Part Third poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Best Poems of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow