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Tales of a Wayside Inn by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

PART SECOND - Poem - Interlude [5]

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PART SECOND: Interlude [5]

Well pleased the audience heard the tale.
The Theologian said: "Indeed,
To praise you there is little need;
One almost hears the farmers flail
Thresh out your wheat, nor does there fail
A certain freshness, as you said,
And sweetness as of home-made bread.
But not less sweet and not less fresh
Are many legends that I know,
Writ by the monks of long-ago,
Who loved to mortify the flesh,
So that the soul might purer grow,
And rise to a diviner state;
And one of these--perhaps of all
Most beautiful--I now recall,
And with permission will narrate;
Hoping thereby to make amends
For that grim tragedy of mine,
As strong and black as Spanish wine,
I told last night, and wish almost
It had remained untold, my friends;
For Torquemada's awful ghost
Came to me in the dreams I dreamed,
And in the darkness glared and gleamed
Like a great lighthouse on the coast."

The Student laughing said: "Far more
Like to some dismal fire of bale
Flaring portentous on a hill;
Or torches lighted on a shore
By wreckers in a midnight gale.
No matter; be it as you will,
Only go forward with your tale."


Content of PART SECOND: Interlude [5] [Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's poem collection: Tales of a Wayside Inn]



Read next: PART SECOND#The Theologian's Tale#The Legend Beautiful

Read previous: PART SECOND#The Poet's Tale#Lady Wentworth

Table of content of Tales of a Wayside Inn


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