Tavern

Edna St. Vincent Millay

I’ll keep a little tavern
  Below the high hill’s crest,
Wherein all grey-eyed people
  May set them down and rest.

There shall be plates a-plenty,
  And mugs to melt the chill
Of all the grey-eyed people
  Who happen up the hill.

There sound will sleep the traveller,
  And dream his journey’s end,
But I will rouse at midnight
  The falling fire to tend.

Aye, ’tis a curious fancy—
  But all the good I know
Was taught me out of two grey eyes
  A long time ago.

Next 10 Poems

• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Bean-stalk
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Blue-flag In The Bog
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Death Of Autumn
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Dream
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Little Ghost
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Little Hill
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Merry Maid
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Penitent
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Philosopher
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : The Poet And His Book

Previous 10 Poems

• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Spring
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Sorrow
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Song Of A Second April
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : She Is Overheard Singing
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Second Fig
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Rosemary
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Renascence
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Recuerdo
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Prayer To Persephone
• Edna St. Vincent Millay : Portrait By A Neighbor