I sicken of men’s company—
The crowded tavern’s din,
Where all day long with oath and song
Sit they who entrance win;
So come I out from noise and rout
To rest in God’s Green Inn.
Here none may mock an empty purse
Or ragged coat and poor,
But Silence waits within the gates,
And Peace beside the door;
The weary guest is welcomest,
The richest pays no score.
The roof is high and arched and blue,
The floor is spread with pine;
On my four walls the sunlight falls
In golden flecks and fine;
And swift and fleet, on noiseless feet
The Four Winds bring me wine.
Upon my board they set their store—
Great drinks mixed cunningly,
Wherein the scent of furze is blent
With odor of the sea,
As from a cup I drink it up
To thrill the veins of me.
It’s I will sit in God’s Green Inn
Unvexed by man or ghost,
Yet ever fed and comforted,
Companioned by mine host,
And watched at night by that white light
High-swung from coast to coast.
Oh, you who in the House of Strife
Quarrel and game and sin,
Come out and see what cheer may be
For starveling souls and thin,
Who come at last from drought and fast
To sit in God’s Green Inn!
A Newark-born poet, Theodosia Pickering Faulks published under the name Theodosia Garrison. “The Green Inn” first appeared in the July 1907 issue of Scribner’s Magazine.
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