Sam's answer to the Canterbury Tales.

There was a man, a Wanderer, if you will,
He'd traveled the world and still had no fill
Of any land, or the wonders in it.
He joined our company in a minute
To see the cathedral of Canterbury.
A tall, strong man, and always merry
His smile was always quick to show
And quite a good deal did he know.
His voice was strong and carried well,
And here is the tale he did tell:
"Once far away, in a time long past,
Was a man who would be considered the last
Of the great minstrels of his day;
He went by the name of Anthony DuKay.
DuKay was a musician of great renown
His fame was spread from town to town.
Never was a place he stepped he couldn't win
A good deal of money when his purse grew thin.
For DuKay had a voice like the angel's carry
Whenever he sang, all would be merry.
But his voice was small when his harp was played
The songs that rang forth were as sweet as could be made
By any mortal hand. So it was DuKay's head grew
As none could ever hold a candle to
The beautiful songs he sung.
He claimed the title of number one.
Then one day a stranger did appear
Making DuKay tremble in fear.
For he, too, was a harpist, his instrument black as night
And the boy knew this would be the fight
To determine who the best in the world would be
Called. He was no ordinary man, you see,
But the devil himself, the tempter of men,
Come to punish DuKay's sin
Of pride. The man strung his harp, and began to play
Notes unmatched by any, even DuKay,
Who felt fear strike hard in his breast
With the knowledge he was not the best.
But still the lad was determined to try
And threw his heart in it. The song went by
As DuKay's greatest work, more than a mortal man
Could do with his early hands.
So in the end, the devil was beat.
Who laid his harp by DuKay's feet
Speaking, 'You have won boy, as none would
Have guessed you been able. Still there is something you should
Know by now: Never deal with the devil, my lad.
For despite how good or how bad
You are, I'll win in the end;
Pride is such a great sin,
And you in it you revel.
I'll see you shortly in Hell.'
DuKay was shortly gone,
Carried off to the beyond.
So the lesson is, my friends,
We must ever be wary of our sins.
For things which look innocent may not be so
As poor Anthony DuKay now must know."

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