Tavern

Edna St. Vincent Millay

1892 to 1950

Poem Image
Track 1

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But all the good I know
Wherein all grey-eyed people
A long time ago.
There shall be plates a-plenty,
Who happen up the hill.
Of all the grey-eyed people
Aye, 'tis a curious fancy—
There sound will sleep the traveller,
Below the high hill's crest,
Was taught me out of two grey eyes
But I will rouse at midnight
And mugs to melt the chill
The falling fire to tend.
May sit them down and rest.
And dream his journey's end,
I'll keep a little tavern

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