Now musing o'er the changing scene
Farmers behind the tavern screen
Collect; with elbows idly press'd
On hob, reclines the corner's guest,
Reading the news to mark again
The bankrupt lists or price of grain.
Puffing the while his red-tipt pipe
He dreams o'er troubles nearly ripe,
Yet, winter's leisure to regale,
Hopes better times, and sips his ale.
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What care if the day
Be turned to gray,
What care if the night come soon!
read more
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.
Along the varying road of life,
In calm content, in toil or strife,
At morn or noon, read more
Along the varying road of life,
In calm content, in toil or strife,
At morn or noon, by night or day,
As time conducts him on his way,
How oft doth man, by care oppressed,
Find in an Inn a place of rest.
You may go to Carlisle's and to Almanac's too;
And I'll give you my Head if you find such read more
You may go to Carlisle's and to Almanac's too;
And I'll give you my Head if you find such a Host,
For Coffee, Tea, Chocolate, Butter, or Toast;
How he welcomes at once all the World and his Wife,
And how civil to Folks he ne'er saw in his Life.
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?
He had scarcely gone a short league, when Fortune, that was
conducting his affairs from good to better, discovered read more
He had scarcely gone a short league, when Fortune, that was
conducting his affairs from good to better, discovered to him the
road, where he also espied an Inn. Sancho positively maintained
it was an Inn, and his master that it was a castle; and the
dispute lasted so long that they arrived there before it was
determined.
In the worst inn's worst room, with mat half hung.
In the worst inn's worst room, with mat half hung.
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?
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.
There is nothing which has yet been contrived by man, by which so
much happiness is produced as by read more
There is nothing which has yet been contrived by man, by which so
much happiness is produced as by a good tavern of inn.
