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 And cobwebbed rafters overhead. Aglavaine's red-faced host Kept revel all night long; The barmaid was their toast, The devil's flings their song. 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 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. 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, 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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHAT I'VE BELIEVED IN by JAMES GALVIN THE WILLOW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DAT GAL O' MINE by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON VOLUPTAS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE NIGHT MOTHS by EDWIN MARKHAM A FOOL, A FOUL THING, A DISTRESSFUL LUNATIC by MARIANNE MOORE |