Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
By Lewis Worthington Smith
AGLAVAINE came to the inn:
        They gave him the foulest room.
He, with a heart to win
        Love like the rose for bloom,
    Slept with the rustling straw for bed        5
    And cobwebbed rafters overhead.
Aglavaine’s red-faced host
        Kept revel all night long.
The bar-maid was their toast,
        The devil’s flings their song.        10
    Still through the noise he heard the leaves
    Tossed in the wind against the eaves.
Aglavaine heard the choir
        Chant in the church unseen,
Then, with a heart of fire        15
        For beauty fine and clean,
    Ate where a clown might loathe to dine,
    While all his fellows reeled with wine.
Aglavaine came to the inn:
        Short was their speech and curt.        20
He of the tender chin,
        Lonely and worn and hurt,
    Saw through his window-round of sky
    God’s pageantry of stars go by.
Aglavaine sang in the sun,        25
        Taking the morning road.
His was the course begun,
        His but the firstling load.
    They travel far and sup with sin
    Who find good quarters at an inn.        30

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