Arthur Quiller-Couch, comp. The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse. 1922.
The Inn of CareSamuel Waddington (18441923)
A
So travellers declare,—
There stands an ancient tavern,
It is the ‘Inn of Care’.
To all the world ’tis open;
It sets a goodly fare;
And every soul is welcome
That deigns to sojourn there.
(He is a stalwart host,)
To please his guest still labours
With ‘bouilli’ and with ‘roast’;—
And ho! he laughs so roundly,
He laughs, and loves to boast
That he who bears the beaker
May live to share the ‘toast’.
Thus named might seem the inn,
So careless is its laughter,
So loud its merry din;
Yet ere to doubt its title
You do, in sooth, begin,
Go, watch the pallid faces
Approach and pass within.
May all the world repair,
And meet a hearty welcome,
And share a goodly fare;
The world! ’tis worn and weary—
’Tis tired of gilt and glare!
The inn! ’tis named full wisely,
It is the ‘Inn of Care’.