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Whoe'er has travel'd life's dull round,
Where'er his stages may have been,
May sigh to think he read more
Whoe'er has travel'd life's dull round,
Where'er his stages may have been,
May sigh to think he still has found
The warmest welcome, at an inn.
The atmosphere
Breathes rest and comfort and the many chambers
Seem full of welcomes.
The atmosphere
Breathes rest and comfort and the many chambers
Seem full of welcomes.
Souls of poets dead and gone,
What Elysium have ye known,
Happy field or mossy cavern,
read more
Souls of poets dead and gone,
What Elysium have ye known,
Happy field or mossy cavern,
Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern?
Where'er his fancy bids him roam,
In ev'ry Inn he finds a home--
. . . .
read more
Where'er his fancy bids him roam,
In ev'ry Inn he finds a home--
. . . .
Will not an Inn his cares beguile,
Where on each face he sees a smile?
A region of repose it seems,
A place of slumber and of dreams.
A region of repose it seems,
A place of slumber and of dreams.
He who has not been at a tavern knows not what a paradise it is.
O holy tavern! O read more
He who has not been at a tavern knows not what a paradise it is.
O holy tavern! O miraculous tavern!--holy, because no carking
cares are there, nor weariness, nor pain; and miraculous, because
of the spits, which themselves turn round and round!
What care if the day
Be turned to gray,
What care if the night come soon!
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What care if the day
Be turned to gray,
What care if the night come soon!
We may choose the pace
Who bow for grace,
At the Inn of the Silver Moon.
Where you have friends you should not go to inns.
Where you have friends you should not go to inns.
Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn but I shall have my pocket
picked?
Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn but I shall have my pocket
picked?