Sara Teasdale

(August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933 / Missouri / United States)

The Inn Of Earth - Poem by Sara Teasdale

I came to the crowded Inn of Earth,
And called for a cup of wine,
But the Host went by with averted eye
From a thirst as keen as mine.

Then I sat down with weariness
And asked a bit of bread,
But the Host went by with averted eye
And never a word he said.

While always from the outer night
The waiting souls came in
With stifled cries of sharp surprise
At all the light and din.

"Then give me a bed to sleep," I said,
"For midnight comes apace"--
But the Host went by with averted eye
And I never saw his face.

"Since there is neither food nor rest,
I go where I fared before"--
But the Host went by with averted eye
And barred the outer door.


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Read poems about / on: food, sleep, light, night



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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