The Inn Under the Hill

 

Dusk enrobed and bathed in starlight,
Cleansed of lurid car- and bar-light,
We climbed the evening hill face
To find our windy high place.

Winds of circumstance blow changes;
Nothing's new, time rearranges
You - our triumphs hide misfortunes
(fine words disguising poor tunes),

But could we have planned life's chances better,
Finding ourselves all here together?
Every thing right, to the letter,
Laughter, life and leisure?

Now as the evening chill descends
Our weary journey nears its end;
Cold blows the dark and rainswept night
And before us shines the tavern light

Where, as your eyelids tire,
Sit ye down beside the fire
And drink ye deep of kindly jest,
Shut out the wind that knows no rest,

For could we have planned life's chances better,
Finding ourselves all here together?
Every thing right, to the letter,
Laughter, life and leisure?

Now as winter shadows lengthen
Warmth and cheer our hearts may strengthen.
Come, now pass the cup of kindness,
And gods that be: Forgive our blindness -

Time after time we hurt you
On the cold, hard cross of moral virtue;
Come, now fill the cup of pleasure,
Let now joy be poured full measure

For could we have planned life's chances better,
Finding ourselves all here together?
Every thing right, to the letter,
Laughter, life and leisure?