My friends we will not go again nor ape an ancient rage,
Or stretch the folly of our youth to be the shame of age,
But walk with clearer eyes and ears this path that wandereth,
And see undrugged in evening light the decent inn of death.
FLYING INN The Rolling English Road
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I came across a faded copy of Chesterton's poem again after years. It had been given to me by a friend with he instruction to 'learn it by heart'!
I think I managed the first stanza - but what a great thing to come back to, ale-mug or rather tea-cup in hand. This morning, I googled 'the decent inn of death' and found your blog.
Thanks Gabriel. I like your blog's name a lot
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