[Verse] Let my inspiration flow, in token rhyme suggesting rhythm That will not forsake me, till my tale is told and done While the fire lights aglow, strange shadows from the flames will grow Till things we've never seen will seem familiar Shadows of a sailor forming winds both foul and fair, all swarm Down in Carlisle he loved a lady many years ago Here beside him stands a man, a soldier by the looks of him Who came through many fights, but lost at love While the story teller speaks, a door within the fire creaks Suddenly flies open, and a girl is standing there Eyes alight, with glowing hair, all that fancy paints as fair She takes her fan and throws it in the lion's den Which of you to gain me, tell, will risk uncertain pains of hell? I will not forgive you if you will not take the chance The sailor gave at least a try; the soldier, being much too wise Strategy was his strength, and not disaster The sailor, coming out again, the lady fairly leapt at him That's how it stands today. You decide if he was wise The story teller makes no choice, soon you will not hear his voice His job is to shed light, and not to master Since the end is never told we pay the teller off in gold In hopes he will come back, but he cannot be bought or sold