Where'er his fancy bids him roam,
In ev'ry Inn he finds a home--
. . . .
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Where'er his fancy bids him roam,
In ev'ry Inn he finds a home--
. . . .
Will not an Inn his cares beguile,
Where on each face he sees a smile?

Where you have friends you should not go to inns.

Where you have friends you should not go to inns.

Souls of poets dead and gone,
What Elysium have ye known,
Happy field or mossy cavern,
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Souls of poets dead and gone,
What Elysium have ye known,
Happy field or mossy cavern,
Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern?

In the worst inn's worst room, with mat half hung.

In the worst inn's worst room, with mat half hung.

You may go to Carlisle's and to Almanac's too;
And I'll give you my Head if you find such read more

You may go to Carlisle's and to Almanac's too;
And I'll give you my Head if you find such a Host,
For Coffee, Tea, Chocolate, Butter, or Toast;
How he welcomes at once all the World and his Wife,
And how civil to Folks he ne'er saw in his Life.

He who has not been at a tavern knows not what a paradise it is.
O holy tavern! O read more

He who has not been at a tavern knows not what a paradise it is.
O holy tavern! O miraculous tavern!--holy, because no carking
cares are there, nor weariness, nor pain; and miraculous, because
of the spits, which themselves turn round and round!

What care if the day
Be turned to gray,
What care if the night come soon!
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What care if the day
Be turned to gray,
What care if the night come soon!
We may choose the pace
Who bow for grace,
At the Inn of the Silver Moon.

There is nothing which has yet been contrived by man, by which so
much happiness is produced as by read more

There is nothing which has yet been contrived by man, by which so
much happiness is produced as by a good tavern of inn.

Now musing o'er the changing scene
Farmers behind the tavern screen
Collect; with elbows idly press'd
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Now musing o'er the changing scene
Farmers behind the tavern screen
Collect; with elbows idly press'd
On hob, reclines the corner's guest,
Reading the news to mark again
The bankrupt lists or price of grain.
Puffing the while his red-tipt pipe
He dreams o'er troubles nearly ripe,
Yet, winter's leisure to regale,
Hopes better times, and sips his ale.