His eye begets occasion for his wit;
For every object that the one doth catch
The other read more

His eye begets occasion for his wit;
For every object that the one doth catch
The other turns to a mirth-moving jest,
Which his fair tongue, conceit's expositor,
Delivers in such apt and gracious words,
That aged ears play truant at his tales,
And younger hearings are quite ravished,
So sweet and voluble is his discourse.

I cannot tell how the truth may be;
I say the tale as 'twas said to me.

I cannot tell how the truth may be;
I say the tale as 'twas said to me.

If a nation loses its storytellers, it loses its childhood.

If a nation loses its storytellers, it loses its childhood.

And what so tedious as a twice-told tale.

And what so tedious as a twice-told tale.

Out of their saddles into the dirt--and thereby hangs a tale.

Out of their saddles into the dirt--and thereby hangs a tale.

This story will never go down.

This story will never go down.

But that's another story.

But that's another story.

Soft as some song divine, thy story flows.

Soft as some song divine, thy story flows.

In vain would I seek to discover
Why sad and mournful am I,
My thoughts without ceasing read more

In vain would I seek to discover
Why sad and mournful am I,
My thoughts without ceasing brood over
A tale of the time gone by.
[Ger., Ich weiss nicht was soll es bedeuten,
Dass ich so traurig bin:
Ein marchen aus alten Zeiten
Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.]