For seldom shall she hear a tale
So said, so tender, yet so true.

For seldom shall she hear a tale
So said, so tender, yet so true.

I hate
To tell again a tale once fully told.

I hate
To tell again a tale once fully told.

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

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

When thou dost tell another's jest, therein
Omit the oaths, which true wit cannot need;
Pick out read more

When thou dost tell another's jest, therein
Omit the oaths, which true wit cannot need;
Pick out of tales the mirth, but not the sin.

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.]

Why do you laugh? Change but the name, and the story s told of
yourself.
[Lat., Quid rides?]
read more

Why do you laugh? Change but the name, and the story s told of
yourself.
[Lat., Quid rides?]
Mutato nomine de te fabula narratur.]

At this point therefore let us begin our narrative, without
adding any more to what has already been said; read more

At this point therefore let us begin our narrative, without
adding any more to what has already been said; for it would be
foolish to lengthen the preface while cutting short the history
itself.

An' all us other children, when the supper things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an' has read more

An' all us other children, when the supper things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an' has the mostest fun
A-list'nin' to the witch tales 'at Annie tells about
An' the gobble-uns 'at gits you
Ef you
Don't
Watch
Out!

But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison house,
I could a tale read more

But that I am forbid
To tell the secrets of my prison house,
I could a tale unfold whose lightest word
Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood,
Make thy two eyes like stars start from their spheres,
Thy knotted and combined locks to part,
And each particular hair to stand on end
Like quills upon the fretful porpentine.