Edna St. Vincent Millay (Эдна Сент-Винсент Миллей)

Tavern

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.

1. Assault
2. The Snow Storm
3. Intention to Escape from Him
4. When We Are Old And These Rejoicing Veins
5. To S. M.

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