Classic Poem

If there is a heaven for poets, old taverns will rise in rows,
Where minstrels and bards can gather when the gates of evening close;
There they can feast and revel before tall flagons of ale,
Dreaming of seas of emerald where golden galleons sail.

There would you find Will Shakespeare and Johnson of goodly girth,
Jesting and singing bravely as they did when they dwelt on earth;
Little they cared for castles, but genial hearths like these,—
The glamor of Mermaid Tavern, the glory of Cheshire Cheese!