Page:Veil other poems .djvu/38

 elcome! Enter ! This is the Inn at the Cross Roads, Sign of the Rising Sun, of the World's End: Ay, O Wanderer, footsore, weary, forsaken, Knock, and we will open to thee—Friend.

Gloomy our stairs of stone, obscure the portal; Burdened the air with a breath from the further shore; Yet in our courtyard plays an invisible fountain, Ever flowers unfading nod at the door.

Ours is much company, and yet none is lonely; Some with a smile may pay and some with a sigh; So all be healed, restored, contented—it is no matter— So all be happy at heart to bid good-bye.

But know, our clocks are the world's; Night's wings are leaden, Pain languidly sports with the hours; have courage, sir! We wake but to bring thee slumber, our drowsy syrups Sleep beyond dreams on the weary will confer.