A Sara Teasdale Poem

I came to the crowded Inn of Earth,
And called for a cup of wine,
But the Host went by with averted eye
From a thirst as keen as mine.

Then I sat down with weariness
And asked a bit of bread,
But the Host went by with averted eye
And never a word he said.

While always from the outer night
The waiting souls came in
With stifled cries of sharp surprise
At all the light and din.

“Then give me a bed to sleep,” I said,
“For midnight comes apace”
But the Host went by with averted eye
And I never saw his face.

“Since there is neither food nor rest,
I go where I fared before”
But the Host went by with averted eye
And barred the outer door.