Inn, The: An Old Epitaph
Post-haste we ride the road of men
From shadow through to shade again,
But rein, to breathe or tighten girth,
At that old inn yclept “The Earth.”
There some delay to dine and sup,
While some but taste a stirrup-cup;
And some have ease and ample fare,
And some find little comfort there.
His score is large who bides a day;
Who soonest goes hath least to pay.
From shadow through to shade again,
But rein, to breathe or tighten girth,
At that old inn yclept “The Earth.”
There some delay to dine and sup,
While some but taste a stirrup-cup;
And some have ease and ample fare,
And some find little comfort there.
His score is large who bides a day;
Who soonest goes hath least to pay.
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