Inns

"He had scarcely gone a short league, when Fortune, that was conducting his affairs from good to better, discovered to him the road, where he also espied an Inn. Sancho positively maintained it was an Inn, and his master that it was a castle; and the dispute lasted so long that they arrived there before it was determined."

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

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

"A region of repose it seems, A place of slumber and of dreams."

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

"Shall I not take mine ease in mine inn?"

"The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: Now spurs the lated traveler apace To gain the timely inn."

"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 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!"

"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."

"Alone the varying road of life, In calm content, in toil or strife, At morn or noon, by night or day, As time conducts him on his way, How oft doth man, by care oppressed, Find in an Inn a place of rest."

"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."

"The atmosphere Breathes rest and comfort and the many chambers Seem full of welcomes."

"Whoe'er has travel'd life's dull round, Where'er his stages may have been, May sigh to think he still has found The warmest welcome, at an inn."

"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."