  Nothing disturbed my night of sleep, I wonder that I ever woke It was so heavy, was so deep I scarce had heard the thunder-stroke. So what was drinking, feasting, talking By guests who came and guests who went, Or those who spent the time in walking The halls and rooms in argument About the Tavern? Some declared No better Tavern could be built. And others called it a deception, Its purest gold but thinnest gilt, A cruel cheat considering No other Tavern gave reception To folks who might be wayfaring Anywhere in the whole wide land. I woke a stranger to it all, But quickly grew to understand The ways and customs which prevailed: Those who won favor, those who failed; What feasting rooms had echoed laughter; What corners where the old had cried; What stairways where the breathless bride Paused for a moment just to toss Among the bridesmaids her bouquet; What rooms where men in work or play Approved or cursed for gain or loss The Tavern’s roof-tree, roof and rafter. Then when I woke, as I have said, Save a few children there was none Who was not older far than I. Many were trembling gray of head; The strong walked forth in rain or sun And seemed all danger to defy. All welcomed me and called me fair, And told me strange events which passed Around the Tavern while I slept. Soon there were changes. Scarce aware Of their departure many stept Out of the door and seemed to cast Their fortunes elsewhere, but as fast New guests came in to take the places Of those who left. And through the day I lost the old, remembering faces Freshly arrived. When it was noon I knew what things were opportune, I had become one of the crowd Knew what their love was, what their hate, Myself stole kisses in the hall, And saw the old who sat and cried In corners, saw the rosy bride Pause for a moment just to toss Among the bridesmaids her bouquet, Where I stood best man to the groom. Was myself of the noisy room, Where men in work or men in play Approve or curse the gain or loss. Toward afternoon I seemed to feel More people knew me than I knew. Then it was good to meet with you. I saw you as you left the stair. And who were you? I do not dare To praise your brow, or paint your hair, Your eyes how gray, or were they blue? A pain strikes through me if I let The full strength of my love have sway. I only know I can forget All others who had gone away Remembering our happy day Together in the house and yard. It was to you all fair and new. You listened with such rapt regard To all the stories of the guests, And was the Tavern just the same As it had been before you came, You asked me, and I answered, yes, No change, my dear, not even the name. No change, except the people change, And change they do, I must confess. In truth a few alone remain Of those who lived here when I first Entered the door there, most are strange. And as I rose much earlier Than you arose, you may suppose I shall grow drowsy, yet who knows Before you do, and leave the stir The dancing, feasting, just to creep Back for another night of sleep. I’d like so well to stay awake And watch the dancing for your sake. It may be, though it scarce may be— No one remained awake for me. You cannot fail to find the bed When you are sleepy, but no doubt It will be black with the light out. Come dear, that sleep is loveliest Where side by side two lovers rest, That sweetens sleep—it may be best! |
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