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Souls of
Poets dead and gone,
What Elysium have ye known,
Happy field or mossy cavern,
Choicer than the Mermaid
Tavern?
Have ye tippled drink more fine
Than mine
host's Canary wine?
Or are fruits of Paradise
Sweeter than those dainty pies
Of venison? O generous
food!
Drest as though bold Robin Hood
Would, with
his Maid Marian,
Sup and bowse from horn and can.
I have heard that on a day
Mine host's sign-board
flew away;
Nobody knew whither, till
An
astrologer's old quill
To a sheepskin gave the story
-
Said he saw you in your glory,
Underneath a new
old sign,
Sipping beverage divine,
And pledging
with contented smack
The Mermaid in the Zodiac.
Souls of Poets dead and gone,
What Elysium have ye
known,
Happy field or mossy cavern,
Choicer than
the Mermaid Tavern?
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